WHAT  SOCIAL  CLASSES 
OWE  TO  EACH  OTHER 


^$or£r>fTMt-    £r 

By 
WILLIAM  GRAHAM  SUMNER 


With  an  Introduction  by 

ALBERT  GALLOWAY  KELLER 

Professor,  Department  of  Social  Sci^mes 
Yale  University 


Harper  &  Brothers  Publishers 
New  York  and  London 


WHAT  SOCIAL  CLASSES  OWE  TO  EACH  OTHER 

Copyright,  1883,  1920,  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published  April,  1920 

D-U 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

FOREWORD v 

INTRODUCTION 7 

I.  ON  A  NEW  PHILOSOPHY:  THAT  POVERTY  is  ^^ 

THE   BEST  POLICY 13 

II.  THAT  A  FREE  MAN  is  A  SOVEREIGN,  BUT 

THAT  A  SOVEREIGN  CANNOT  TAKE  "TIPS"     '  28 

III.  THAT  IT  is  NOT  WICKED  TO  BE  RICH  ;  N  A.Y, 

EVEN,    THAT    IT    IS    NOT    WICKED    TO    BE     ir- 
RICHER  THAN   ONE^S  NEIGHBOR        ...         43 

IV.  ON  THE   REASONS   WHY   MAN   IS   NOT  ALTO-     v 

GETHER  A  BRUTE 58 

V.  THAT  WE  MUST  HAVE  PEW  MEN,  IP  WE  WANT  ^ 

STRONG  MEN          72 

VI.  THAT  HE  WHO  WOULD  BE  WELL  TAKEN  CARE     , 

OF  MUST  TAKE  CARE  OF  HIMSELF     .      .      .    /    81 

VII.  CONCERNING  SOME  OLD  FOES  UNDER  NEW 

FACES 101 

VIII.  ON  THE  VALUE,  AS  A  SOCIOLOGICAL  PRINCI- 

PLE, OF  THE  RULE  TO  MIND  ONE*S  OWN 
BUSINESS 112 

IX.  ON  THE  CASE  OF  A  CERTAIN  MAN  WHO  IS 

NEVER  THOUGHT  OF 123 

X.  THE  CASE  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN  MAN  FARTHER 

CONSIDERED 134 

XI.  WHEREFORE  WE  SHOULD  LOVE  ONE  AN-  <^ 

OTHER 153 


FOREWORD. 

"I  HAVE  just  finished  re-reading  Sumner's 
Social  Classes"  remarked  an  emeritus  colleague 
of  Sumner's,  recently.  "I  used  to  think  it  was 
too  hard.  It  is  hard,  but,  confound  it!  it's 
true." 

There  are  at  least  two  good  reasons  for 
bringing  this  little  book  to  the  attention  of  a 
second  generation:  there  is  in  it  the  sort  of 
truth  that  can  never  be  out  of  date;  and  it  is  a 
brilliant  piece  of  writing.  If  it  had  no  more 
than  historical  value,  it  would  deserve,  by 
reason  of  its  special  qualities  of  style  and 
spirit,  to  be  republished  over  and  over  again, 
as  other  keen  and  epigrammatic  essays  on 
social  relations  have  been;  for  such  documents 
of  energetic  conviction  conserve  the  living 
spirit  of  their  times  and  form  pleasing  and  pro- 
ductive oases  amid  wastes  of  arid  chronicle  and 
prosy  lucubration.  But  there  is  more  than 
historic  value  in  Social  Classes;  it  presents  a 
series  of  acute  observations  on  human  nature 
and  the  social  order  that  belong  to  no  one  time 
or  place. 

It  is  an  impassioned  vindication  of  individu- 


FOREWORD. 

alism,  if  you  will,  and  a  resolute  arraignment 
of  the  social  meddling  and  social  doctors  that 
were  popular  in  1883,  are  now,  and  perhaps 
always  will  be.  It  is  a  blunt  exposition  of  the 
author's  understanding  ofjaissez-faire — that  is, 
/  "Mind  your  j3wn  business^ — which,  he  says, 
^  is'^iFHo^trfnT  of  liberty.  It  advocates  only 
the  ftim^ase,  multiplication,  and  extension  of 
opportunity.  "In  the  prosecution  of  these 
chances,  we  all  owe  to  one  another  good  will, 
mutual  respect,  and  mutual  guaranties  of 
liberty  and  security.  Beyond  this,  nothing 
can  be  affirmed  as  a  duty  of  one  group  to 
another  in  a  free  state." 

If  any  age  ever  needed  an  unflinching  state- 
ment of  the  individualistic  position,  even 
though  that  position  be  overstated  in  the  heat 
of  controversy  and  in  disgust  with  the  social 
doctors,  it  is  this  present  age.  At  a  time  when 
the  world  is  menaced  with  the  curtailment  of 
civil  liberty  and  the  paralysis  of  individual 
initiative  through  weird  and  grotesque  develop- 
ments of  socialism,  it  is  altogether  wholesome 
to  listen  again  to  the  voice  of  one  stout-hearted 
and  uncompromising  exponent  of  sense,  even 
though  it  be  hard  sense.  The  man  who  takes 
to  heart  the  truths  in  this  little  book  cannot 
be  led  by  the  nose  even  into  that  pseudo-open- 
mindedness  that  toys  with  bolshevism  and 
anarchism. 
,-  It  is  true  that  Social  Classes  is  the  outcome 


FOREWORD. 

of  the  study  of  a  population  predominantly 
rural  and  agricultural,  and  that  parts  of  it  need 
to  be  read  with  that  fact  in  mind.  To  that 
degree  it  is  of  historical  rather  than  con- 
temporary interest.  But  its  main  thesis  will 
not  be  out  of  date  while  men  live  together  in 
society;  for  it  is  a  clear  call  to  the  standard  of 
civil  liberty  as  guaranteed  by  a  free  state.  And 
it  is  an  inspiration  to  any  one  who  admires 
pluck  and  hard  hitting  in  defense  of  stout 
conviction. 

A.  G.  KELLER. 

WEST  BOOTHBAY  HARBOR,  MAINE,  August  6, 1919. 


WHAT  SOCIAL  CLASSES 
OWE  TO  EACH  OTHEit. 


INTRODUCTION. 

WE  are  told  every  day  that  great  social 
problems  stand  before  us  and  demand  a  solu- 
tion, and  we  are  assailed  by  oracles,  threats, 
and  warnings  in  reference  to  those  problems. 
There  is  a  school  of  writers  who  are  playing 
quite  a  rdle  as  the  heralds  of  the  coming  duty 
and  the  coming  woe.  They  assume  to  speak 
for  a  large,  but  vague  and  undefined,  constit- 
uency, who  set  the  task,  exact  a  fulfilment, 
and  threaten  punishment  for  default.  The 
task  or  problem  is  not  specifically  defined. 
Part  of  the  task  which  devolves  on  those  who 
are  subject  to  the  duty  is  to  define  the  prob- 
lem. They  are  told  only  that  something  is 
the  matter :  that  it  behooves  them  to  find  out 
what  it  is,  and  how  to  correct  it,  and  then  to 


8  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

work  out  the  cure.     All  this  is  more  or  less 
truculently  set  forth. 

After  reading  and  listening  to  a  great  deal 
of  this  sort  of  assertion  I  find  that  the  ques- 
tion forms  itself  with  more  and  more  distinct- 
ness in  my  mind :  Who  are  those  who  assume 
to  put  ji'trd  questions  to  other  people  and  to 
demand  a  solution  of  them  ?  How  did  they 
acquire  the  right  to  demand  that  others  should 
solve  their  world-problems  for  them?  Who 
are  they  who  are  held  to  consider  and  solve 
all  questions,  and  how  did  they  fall  under  this 
duty? 

So  far  as  I  can  find  out  what  the  classes  are 
ho  are  respectively  endowed  with  the  rights 
and  duties  of  posing  and  solving  social  prob- 
;  ems,  they  are  as  follows :  Those  who  are 
bound  to  solve  the  problems  are  the  rich, 
comfortable,  prosperous,  virtuous,  respectable, 
''educated,  and  healthy ;  those  whose  right  it 
is  to  set  the  problems  are  those  who  have  been 
less  fortunate  or  less  successful  in  the  struggle 
tfor  existence.  The  problem  itself  seems  to 
be,  How  shall  the  latter  be  made  as  comfort- 
able as  the  former  ?  To  solve  this  problem, 
and  make  us  all  equally  well  off,  is  assumed  to 
be  the  duty  of  the  former  class ;  the  penalty,  if 


L 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 


they  fail  of  this,  is  to 
tion.     If  they  cannot  make  everybody  else  as 
^weEf  off  as  themselves,  they  are  to  be  brought 
down  to  the  same  misery  as  others. 

During  the  last  ten  years  I  have  read  a 
great  .jnany  books  and  articles,  especially  by 

attempt  has  been 


made  to  set  up  ^  the  State  '\  as  an  entity  having  • 
conscience,  power,  and  will  sublimated  above 
human  limitations,  and  as  constituting  a  tute- 
lary genius  over  us  all.  I  have  never  been 
able  to  find  in  history  or  experience  anything 
to  fit  this  concept.  I  once  lived  in  Germany 
for  two  years,  but  I  certainly  saw  nothing  of 
it  there  then.  Whether  the  State  which  Bis- 
marck is  moulding  will  fit  the  notion  is  at  best 
a  matter  of  faith  and  hope.  My  notion  of  the 
State  has  dwindled  with  growing  experience 
of  life.  (As  an  abstraction,  the  State  is  to  me' 
only  All-of-usT]  In  practice  —  that  is,  when  it 
exercises  will  or  adopts  a  line  of  action  —  it  is 
a  little  rou]3  of 


hap-hazard  way  ..  by  the  majority  of  us  to  per] 
form  certain  services  for  all  of  us.  The  ma-^ 
jority  do  not  go  about  their  selection  very 
rationally,  and  they  are  almost  always  disap- 
pointed by  the  results  of  their  own  operation. 


10  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

Hence  "  the  State/'  instead  of  offering  resour- 
ces  of  wisdom,  right  reason,  and  pure.moraL. 

^girr   ,»£•    ............  ••••  -  —  *  '  '     ^         "™  "  " 

s$rise  beyond  what  the  average  of  ujLI>QSS££s< 
,  gOTeraliy  offers  mu^ 

Furthermore,  it  often  turns  out  in  practice 
that  "  the  State  "  is  not  even  the  known  and 
accredited  servants  of  the  State,  but,  as  has 
been  well  said,  is  only 


\t          hidden  in  the  recesses  of  a  Government  bu- 

reau, into  whose  power  the  chance  has  fallen 

W  '  for  the  moment  to  pull  one  of  the  stops  which 

control  the  Government  machine.     In  former 

days  it  often  happened  that  "  the  State  "  was 

\a  barber,  a  fiddler,  or  a  bad  woman.     In  our 

$        (day  it  often  happens  that  "the  State"  is  a 

/  \.  &    tittle  functionary  on.  whom  a  big  functionary 

pT    *y        5S  forced  to  depend. 

JT  \f  I  cannot  see  the  sense  of  spending  time  to 

&  read  and  write  observations,  such  as  I  find  in 

the  writings  of  many  men  of  great  attainments 
and  of  great  influence,  of  which  the  following 
might  be  a  general  type:  If  the  statesmen 
could  attain  to  the  requisite  knowledge  and 
wisdom,  it  is  conceivable  that  the  State  might 
perform  important  regulative  functions  in  the 
production  and  distribution  of  wealth,  against 
which  no  positive  and  sweeping  theoretical 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER. 


11 


objection  could  be  made  from  the  side  of  eco- 
nomic science ;  but  statesmen  never  can  ac- 
quire the  requisite  knowledge  and  wisdom. 
— To  me  this  seems  a  mere  waste  of  words. 
The  inadequacy  of  the  State  to  regulative 

»  tasks  is  agreed  upon,  as  a  matter  o£.£a>fit,  by 
jalL__3V'hy,  then,  bring  State  regulation  into 
the  discussion  simply  in  order  to  throw  it  out 
again?  The  whole  subject_ought  to  be  dis^ 
Qussed  and  settled.,  aside,  from  the  hypothesis 
ofJ5tat«e_ regulation. 

The  little  group  of  public  servants  who,  as 
I  have  said,  constitute  the  State,  when  the 
State  determines  on  anything,  could  not  do 
much  for  themselves  or  anybody  else  by  their 
own  force.     If  they  do  anything,  they  must 
dispose  of  men,  as  in  an  army,  or  of  capital,  ( 
as  in  a  treasury.     But  the  army,  or  police,  or  I 
posse  comitatuS)  is  more  or  less  All-of-us,  and 
the  capital  jn  the  treasury. js_.  the  jproducJLpf 
thalabor  jmd  mviog  of  AU-of -us.    Therefore, 
when  the  State  means  power-to-do  it  meansr 
All-of-us,  as  brute  force  or  as  industrial  force. !  \ 
_If  anybody  js  to  benefit  jrom  the  action  of 

§L    If,  then,  the 


question  is  raised,  What  ought  the  State  to 
do  for  labor,  for  trade,  for  manufactures,  for 


12  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

the  poor,  for  the  learned  professions  ?  etc.,  etc. 
—that  is,  for  a  class  or  an  interest — it  is  really 
the  question,  What  ought  All-of-us  to  do  foi 
/  Some-of-us?  But  Some-of-us  are  included  in 
All-of-us,  and,  so  far  as  they  get  the  benefit 
of  their  own  efforts,  it  is  the  same  as  if  they 
worked  for  themselves,  and  they  may  be  can- 
celled out  of  All-of-us.  Then  the  question 
which  remains  is,  What  ought  Some-of-us  to 
do  for  Others-of-us  ?  or,  What  do  social  class- 
owe to  each  other  ? 

I  now  propose  to  try  to  find  out  whether 
there  is  any  class  in  society  which  lies  under 
the  duty  and  burden  of  fighting  the  battles  of 
life  for  any  other  class,  or  of  solving  social 
problems  for  the  satisfaction  of  any  other 
class  $3also,  whether  there  is  any  class  which 
has  the  right  to  formulate  demandssjon  "  soci- 
ety " — that  is,  on  other  classes  ;  alsi^whether 
there  is  anything  but  a  fallacy  and  a  supersti- 
tion in  the  notion  that  "  the  State  "  owes  any 
thing  to  anybody  except  geace,  ordej1,  and  tliu 
gi^antees^of  rights. 

I  have  in  view,  throughout  the  discussion, 
the  economic,  social,  and  political  circumstances 
which  exist  in  the  United  S 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEK.  13 


I. 

ON  A  NEW  PHILOSOPHY:  THAT  POVERTY  IS 
THE  BEST  POLICY. 

IT  is  commonly  asserted  that  there  are  in 
the  United  States  no  classes,  and  any  allusion 
to  classes  is  resenteST  On'TfiS'  other  hand,  we 
constantly  read  and  hear  discussions  of  social 
topics  in  which  the  existence  of  social  classes 
is  assumed  as  a  simple  fact.  "The  poor," 
"the  weak,"  "the  laborers,"  are  expressions 
which  are  used  as  if  they  had  exact  and  well- 
understood  definition.  Discussions  are  made  to 
bear  upon  the  assumed  rights,  wrongs,  and  mis- 
fortunes of  certain  social  classes ;  and  all  public 
speaking  and  writing  consists,  in  a  large  meas- 
ure, of  the  discussion  of  general  j>lans^ for 
meeting  the  wishes  of  classes  of_peppla  who 
havejnot  been  able  to  satisfy  theirjjwn  desires. 
These  classes  are  sometimes  discontented,  and 
sometimes  not.  Sometimes  they  do  not  know 
that  anything  is  amiss  with  them  until  the 
"friends  of  humanity"  come  to  them  with 


14:  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

offers  of  aid.  Sometimes  they  are  discon- 
tented and  envious.  They  do  not  take  their 
achievements  as  a  fair  measure  of  their  rights. 
They  do  not  blame  themselves  or  their  parents 
for  their  lot,  as  compared  with  that  of  other 
people.  Sometimes  they  claim  that  they  have  a 
right  to  everything  of  which  they  feel  the  need 
for  their  happiness  on  earth.  To  make  such  a 
claim  against  God  or  Nature  would,  of  course, 
be  only  to  say  that  we  claim  a  right  to  live  on 
earth  if  we  can.  But  God  and  Nature  have 
;  ordained  the  chances  and  conditions  of  life 
on  earth  once  for  all.  The  case  cannot  be  re- 
i  ftH^  ?  /  opened.  We  cannot  get  a  revision  of  the  laws 
V  [  tu^  xi£w  human  lif o^l  We  are  absofatelyl&iit  up  to 
^  v/  s  the  need  and  duty,  if  we  would  learn  how  to 
)  live  happily,  of  investigating  the  laws  of  Nat- 
ure, and  deducing  the  rules  of  right  living  in 
the  world  as  it  is.  These  are  very  wearisome 
rand  commonplace  .tasks.  They  consist  in  la- 
!bor  and  self-denial  repeated  over  and  over 
'again  in  learning  and  doing.  When  the  peo- 
ple whose  claims  we  are  considering  are  told 
to  apply  themselves  to  these  tasks  they  become 
irritated  and  feel  almost  insulted.  They  formu- 
late their  claims  as  rights  against  society — that 
( is,  against  some  other  men.  In  their  view  they 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  15 


e  a  right,  ^ggtjonl^  to  pursue  happiness,  1       ^t^, 
but_to  get  it;  and  if  they  fail  to  get  it,,  they  j 
tKmk  they  have  a  claim  to  the  aid  ofjother  men  \      'Z^-*"---'" 
—  tFat  is,  to  the  labor  and  self-denial  of  other  T 
men  —  to  get  it  for  them.     They  find  orators 
and  poets  who  tell  them  that  they  have  griev- 
ances, so  long  as  they  have  unsatisfied  desires. 

Now,  if  there  are  groups  of  people  who  have  M*"" 
a  claim  to  other  people's  labor  and  self-denial, 
and  if  there  are  other  people  whose  labor  and 
self-denial  are  liable  to  be  claimed  by  the  first 
groups,  then  there  certainly  are  "^classes,"  Vid 
classes  of  the  oldest  and  most  vicious  type. 
For  a  man  who  can  command  another  man!g  |  v 
labor  and  self  -  denial  for  the  support  of  his 
own  jgxistence  is  a  privileged  person  of  the 
highest  species  conceivable  on  earth.    Princes  J> 
jaad  paupers  meet  on  this  plane,  and  no  other 
men  are  on  it  at  all.     On  the  other  hand,:a(\ 
man  whose  labor  and  self-denial  may  be  di-  \ 
verted  from  his  maintenance  to  that  of  some 
other  man  is  not  a  free  man,  and  approaches/ 
more  or  less  toward  the  position  of  a  slave/  • 
Therefore  we  shall  find  that,  in  all  the  notions 
which  we  are  to  discuss,  this  elementai^con- 


are  not  classes,  will  produce  repeated  con  fa- 


16 


WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 


/ 


J 


sion  and  absurdity.  We  shall  find  that,  in  our 
efforts  to  eliminate  the  old  vices  of  class  gov- 
ernment, we  are  impeded  and  defeated  by  new 
products  of  the  worst  class  theory.  We  shall 
find  that  all  the'^schemes  for  producing  equal- 
ity and  obliterating  the  organization  of  society 
produce  a  new  differentiation  based  on  the 
worst  possible  distinction — the  right  to  claim 
and  the  duty  to  give  one  man's  effort  for  an- 
other man's  satisfaction!  We  shall  find  that 
every  effort  to  realize  ^equality  necessitates  a 
^sacrifice  of  liberty. 

It  is  very  popular  to  pose  as  a  "  friend  of 
humanity,"  or  a  "  friend  of  the  working  class- 
es." The  character,  however,  is  quite  exotic 
in  the  United  States.  It  is  borrowed  from 
England,  where  some  men,  otherwise  of  small 
account,  have  assumed  it  with  great  success 
and  advantage.  Anything  which  has  a  chari- 
table sound  and  a  kind-hearted  tone  general- 
ly passes  without  investigation,  because  it  is 
disagreeable  to  assail  it.  Sermons,  essays,  and 
orations  assume  a  conventional  standpoint 
with  regard  to  the  poor,  the  weak,  etc. ;  and 
it  is  allowed  to  pass  as  an  unquestioned  doc- 
trine in  regard  to  social  classes  that  "the 
rich"  ought  to  '-'pare  for  t!\o  iioor;"  that 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  17 

Churches  especially  ought  to  collect  capital 
from  the  rich  and  spend  it  for  the  poor ;  that 
parishes  ought  to  be  clusters  of  institutions  by 
means  of  which  one  social  class  should  per- 
form its  duties  to  another ;  and  that  clergy- 
men,  economists,  and  social  philosophers  have  < 
a  technical  and  professional  duty  to   devise      ^ <tf?,ukJ 
schemes  for  "  helping  the  poor."    The  preach-  Ci/ew  kt  dy  £ 
ing  in  England  used  all  to  be  done  to  the  poor 
—that  they  ought  to  be  contented  with  their 
lot  and  respectful  to  their  betters.     Now,  the 
greatest  part  of  the  preaching  in  America  con-  &    , 

sists  in  injunctions  to  those  who  have  taken  »^£ 
care  of  themselves  to  perform  their  assumed 
duty  to  take  care  of  others.  "Whatever  may 
be  one's  private  sentiments,  thevfear  of  appear- 
ing  cold  and  hard-hearted  causes  these  conven- 
tional theories  of  social  duty  and  these  as- 
sumptions of  social  fact  to  pass  unchallenged. 

Let  us  notice  some  distinctions  which  are  of 
prime  importance  to  a  correct  consideration  of 
the  subject  which  we  intend  to  treat.  ^ 

Certain  ills  belong  to  the  hardships  of  hu-fp 
^Nmanlife.    They  are  natural.    They  are  part  ofH    \ 

ythe  struggle  witn  JNature^for  existence.    WeJ 
/  cannot  blame  our  fellow-men  for  our  share  01 
these.     My  neighbor  and  I  are  both  strug- 
2 


18  \  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


to  free  ourselves  from  these  ills.  The 
fact  that  my  neighbor  has  succeeded  in  this 
struggle  better  than  I  constitutes  no  grievance 
'for  me.  Certain  other  ills  are  due  to  the  mal- 
ice of  men,  and  to  the  imperfections  or  errors 
of  civil  institutions.  These  ills  are  an  object 
i  of  agitation,  and  a  subject  of  discussion.  The 
former  class  of  ills  is  to  be  met  only  by  manly 
effort  and  energy ;  the  latter  may  be  correct- 
ed by  associated  effort.  The  former  class  of 
ills  is  constantly  grouped  and  generalized,  and 
made  the  object  of  social  schemes.  "We  shall 
see,  as  we  go  on,  what  that  means.  The  sec- 
ond class  of  ills  may  fall  on  certain  social  class- 
es, and  reform  will  take  the  form  of  interfer- 
ence by  other  classes  in  favor  of  that  one. 
The  last  fact  is,  no  doubt,  the  reason  why  peo- 
ple have  been  led,  not  noticing  distinctions,  to 
believe  that  the  same  method  was  applicable 
to  the  other  class  of  ills.  The  distinction  here 
^r^vXr  made  between  the  ills  which  belong  to  the 
^J\  fl  struggle  for  existence  and  those  which  are 
~* )  1  due  to  the  faults  of  human  institutions  is  of 

^-*S     M 

i  prime  importance. 

It  will  also  be  important,  in  order  to  clear 

.,  up  our  ideas  about  the  notions  which  are  in 

fashion,  to  note  the  relation  of  the  economic 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  19 

to  the  political  significance  of  assumed  duties 
of  one  class  to  another.  That  is  to  say,  we 
may  discuss  the  question  whether  one  class 
owes  duties  to  another  by  reference  to  the 
economic  effects  which  will  be  produced  on 
tlie  classes  and  society;  or  we  may  discuss 
the  political  expediency  of  formulating  and 
enforcing  rights  and  duties  respectively  be- 
tween the  parties.  In  the  former  case  we 
might  assume  that  the  givers  of  aid  were  will- 
ing to  give  it,  and  we  might  discuss  the  benefit 
or  mischief  of  their  activity.  In  the  other  case 
we  must  assume  that  some  at  least  of  those 
who  were  forced  to  give  aid  did  so  unwilling- 
ly. Here,  then,  there  would  be  a  question  of 
rights.  The  question  whether  Ypluntarj:  char- 
ity is  mischievous  or  not  is  one  thing;  the 
(Question  whether  legislation  which  forces  ong, 
man  to  aid  another  is  right  and  wise,  as  well 
3^LJ§iS2SPJ?^  *s  quite  another 

Jjuestipn.     Great  confusion  and  consequent 
error  is  produced  by  allowing  these  two  ques- 
tions to  become  entangled  in  the  discussion. 
{Especially  we  shall  need  to  notice  the  attempts^ 
jto  apply  legislative  methods  of  reform  to  the     I 
fills  which  belong  to  the  order  of  Nature. 
There  is  no  possible  definition  of  "  a  poor 


20  WIf&T   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


/ 


7 
< 


\ 


man."  (A  pauper  is  a  person  who  cannot  earn 
his  living^jftsJlose  producing  powers  have  fall- 
en positively  below  his  necessary  consump- 
tion ;  who  cannot,  therefore,  pay  his  way.  A 
human  society  needs  the  active  co-operation 
and  productive  energy  of  every  person  in  it. 
A  man  who  is  present  as  a  consumer,  yet  who 
does  not  contribute  either  by  land,  MtQi:4i>r 
capital  to  the  work  of  society,  is  ayyurdeiu 
On  no  ^sound  Apolitical  theory  ought  such  a 
person  to  sliare  in  the  political  power  of  the 
State.  He  drops  out  of  the  ranks  of  work- 
ers and  producers.  Society  must  support  him. 
It  accepts  the  burden,  but  he  must  be  cancel- 
led from  the  ranks  of  the  rulers  likewise.  So 
much  for  the  pauper.  About  him  no  more 
need  be  said.  But  he  is  not  the  "  poor  man." 
The  "  poor  man"  is  an  elastic  term,  under  which 
any  number  of  social  fallacies  may  be  hidden. 
Neither  is  there  any  possible  definition  of 
"the  weak."  Some  are  weak  in  one  way,  and 
some  in  another ;  and  those  who  are  weak  in 
one  sense  are  strong  in  another.  In  general, 
however,  it  may  be  said  that  those  whom  hu- 
4  manitarians  and  philanthropists  call  the  weak 
\  are  the  ones  through  whom  the  productive 
\  and  conservative  forces  of  society  are  wasted. 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 


They  constantly  neutralize  and  destroy  the 
finest  efforts  of  the  wise  and  industrious,  and 
are  ^  dqad  -  weight)  on  the  society  in  all  its 
struggles  to  realize  any  bgtter  things.  "Wheth- 
er the  people  who  mean  no  harm,  but  are  weak 
'"in  the  essential  powers  necessary  to  the  per- 
formance of  one's  duties  in  life,  or  those  who 
are  malicious  and  vicious,  do  the  more  mis- 
chief, is  a  question  not  easy  to  answer. 

Under  the  names  of  the  poor  and  the  weak, 
the  negligent,  shiftless,  inefficient,  silly,  and 
imprudent  are  fastened  upon  the  industrious 
and  prudent  as  a  responsibility  and  a  duty. 
On  the  one  side,  the  terms  are  extended  to 
cover  the  idle,  intemperate,  and  viciousa  who, 
by  the  combination,  gain  credit  which  they 
do  not  deserve,  and  which  they  could  not  get 
if  they  stood  alone.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
terms  are  extended  to  include  wage-receivers 
of  the  humblest  rank,  who  are  degraded  by 
the  combination.  The  reader  who  desires  to 
guard  himself  against  fallacies  should  always 
scrutinize  the  terms  "poor"  and  "weak"  as 
used,  so  as  to  see  which  or  how  many  of  these 
classes  they  are  made  to  cover. 

The  humanitarians,  philanthropists,  and  re- 
formers, looking  at  the  facts  of  life  as  they 


22  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

present  themselves,  find  enough  which  is  sad 
and  unpromising  in  the  condition  of  many 
members  of  society.  They  see  wealth  and 
poverty  side  by  side.  They  note  great  in- 
equality of  social  position  and  social  chances. 
They  eagerly  set  about  the  attempt  to  account 
for  what  they  see,  and  to  devise  schemes  for 
remedying  what  they  do  not  like.£_In  their 
^  eagerness  to  recommend  the  less^fortun, 

classes  to  pity  and  consideration  ;thej  forget 
all  about  the  rights  of  other  classes 

'  ••••••^•••^•••••••••••'••*" *•*  •  r  •*»•*  v 

gloss  over  all  the  faults  of  the  classes  in  ques- 
tion, and  they  exaggerate  their  misfortunes 
and  their  virtues.  They  invent  new  theories 
of  property,  distorting  rights  and  perpetrating 
injustice,  as  any  one  is  sure  to  do  who  sets 
about  the  re -adjustment  of  social  relations 
with  the  interests  of  one  group  distinctly  be- 
fore his  mind,  and  the  interests  of  all  other 
groups  thrown  into  the  background.  When 
I  have  read  certain  of  these  discussions  I  have 
thought  that  it  must  be  quite  disreputable  to 
be  respectable,  quite  dishonest  to  own  proper- 
ty, quite  unjust  to  go  one's  own  way  and  earn 
one's  own  living,  and  that  the  only  really  ad- 
mirable person  was  the  good-for-nothing.  The 
man  who  by  his  own  effort  raises  himself 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEB.  23 

above  poverty  appears,  in  these  discussions,  to 
be  of  no  account.  The  man  who  has  done 
nothing  to  raise  himself  above  poverty  finds 
that  the  social  doctors  flock  about  him,  bring- 
ing the  capital  which  they  have  collected  from 
the  other  class,  and  promising  him  the  aid  of  the 
State  to  give  him  what  the  other  had  to  work 
for.  In  all  these  schemes  and  projects  the 
organized  intervention  of  society  through  the 
State  is  either  planned  or  hoped  for,  and  the 
State  is  thus  made  to  become  the  protector  and 
guardian  of  certain  classes.  The  agents  who 
are  to  direct  the  State  action  are,  of  course, 
the  reformers  and  philanthropists.  Their 
schemes,  therefore,  may  always  be  reduced  to 
this  type — that  A  and  B  decide  what  0  shall 
do  for  D.  It  will  be  interesting  to  inquire,  at 
a  later  period  of  our  discussion,  who  C  is,  and 
what  the  effect  is  upon  him  of  all  these  ar- 
rangements. In  all  the  discussions  attention 
is  concentrated  on  A  and  B,  the  noble  social 
reformers,  and  on  D,  the  "  poor  man/'  I  call  / 

C  the_Forgotten  Man,  because  I  have  never     w^ 
seen  that  any  notice  was  taken  of  him  in  any 
of  the  discussions.     When  we  have  disposed 
of  A,  B,  and  D  we  can  better  appreciate  the 


24:  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

case  of  0,  and  I  think  that  we  shall  find  that 

he  deserves  our  attention,  for  the  worth  of  his 

character  and  the  magnitude  of  his  unmerited 

I  burdens.     Here  it  may  suffice  to  observe  that, 

j  on  the  theories  of  the  social  philosophers  to 

!  whom  I  have  referred,  we  should  get  a  new 

Krnaxim  of  judicious  living:   Poverty  is  the 

j  best  policy.     If  you  get  wealth,  you  will  have 

/  to  support  other  people;  if  you  do  not  get 

1  wealth,  it  will  be  the  duty  of  other  people  to 

j  support  you?) 

No  doubt  one  chief  reason  for  the  unclear 
and  contradictory  theories  of  class  relations 
lies  in  the  fact  that  pur  society,  largely  con- 
trolled in  all  its  organization  by  one  set  of 
doctrines,  still  contains  survivals  of  old  social 
theories  which  are  totally  inconsistent  with 
the  former.  In  the  Middle_Ages  men  were 
united  by  custom  and  prescription  into  asso- 
ciations, ranks,  guilds,  and  communities  of 
various  kinds.  These  ties  endured  as  long  as 
life  lasted.  Consequently  spciety^was  depend- 
ent, throughout  all  its  details,  o  and 
[the  tie,  or  bond,  was  sentimental.  In  our  mod- 
prn  state,  and  in  the  United  States  more  than 
Anywhere  else,  the  social  structure  is  based  on 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  25 

contract^and  status  is  of  tlie  least  importance.! 

^  Jr 

oeo&'^ct,  however,  is__rational — even  rational- 
istic. It  is  also  realistic,  cold,  and  rnatter-of- 
fact.  A  contract  relation  is  based  on  a  suffi- 
cient reason,  not  on  custom  or  prescription. 
It  is  not  permanent.  It  endures  only  so  lon^ 
as  the  reason^ Jor-it^e^i4ures.  (In  a  state  based 
on  contract,  sentiment  j$  out  of  place  in  any 
public  or  common  affairs?!  It  is  relegated  to 
the  sphere  of  private  and  personal  relations, 
where  it  depends  not  at  all  on  class  types,  but 
on  personal  acquaintance  and  personal  esti- 
mates. The  sentimentalists  among  us  always 
seize  upon  the  survivals  of  the  old  order. 
They  want  to  save  them  and  restore  them. 
Much  of  the  loose  thinking  also  which  trou-l 
bles  us  in  our  social  discussions  arises  from 
the  fact  that  men  do  not  distinguish  the  ele- 
ments of  status  and  of  contract  which  may  be 
found  in  our  society. 

Whether  social  philosophers  think  it  de- 
sirable or  not,  it  is  out  of  the  question  to 
back  to  status  or  to  tliQg^ntimental  relatio 
which  once  united  baron  anarietainer,  master 
and  servant,  teacher  and  pupil,  comrade  and 
comrade.     That  we  have  lost  some  grace  and 


26  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

felegance  is  undeniable.  That  life  once  held 
more  poetry  and  romance  is  true  enough. 
But  it  seems  impossible  that  any  one  who  has 
studied  the  matter  should  doubt  that  we  have 
gained  immeasurably,  and  that  our  farther 
gains  lie  in  going  forward,  not  in  going  back- 
ward. The  feudal  ties  can  never  be  restored. 
If  they  could  be  restored  they  would  bring 
back  personal  caprice,  favoritism,  sycophancy, 
and  intrigue.  A  society  based  on  contract  is 
a  society  of  free  and  independent  men,  who 
form  ties  without  favor  or  obligation,  and  co- 
operate without  cringing  or  intrigue.  £A  so- 
based  on  contract,  therefore,  gives  the 
utmost  room  and  chance  for  individual  de- 
velopment, and  for  all  the  self-reliance  and 
dignity  of  a  free  man^l  That  a  society  of 
free  men,  co-operating  under  contract,  is  by 
far  the  strongest  society  which  has  ever  yet 
existed;  that  no  such  society  has  ever  yet 
developed  the  full  measure  of  strength  of 
which  it  is  capable ;  and  that  the  only  social 
improvements  which  are  now  conceivable  lie 
in  the  direction  of  more  complete  realization 
of  a  society  of  free  men  united  by  contract, 
are  points  which  cannot  be  controverted- 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEK. 


It  follows,  however,[that  one  man,  in  a  freei*r 
state,   cannot  claim  help  from,   and  cannot! 
be  charged  to  give  help  to,   another*     To  * 
understand  the  full  meaning  of  this  asser- 
tion it  will  be  worth  while  to  see  what  a 
free  democracy  is. 


28  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


II. 

THAT  A    FREE  MAN  IS  A    SOVEREIGN,  BUT 
THAT  A  SOVEREIGN  CANNOT  TAKE  "  TIPS." 

A  FREE  man,  a  free  country,  liberty,  and 
equality  are  terms  of  constant  use  among  us. 
They  are  employed  as  watchwords  as  soon  as 
any  social  questions  come  into  discussion.  It 
is  right  that  they  should  be  so  used.  They 
ought  to  contain  the  broadest  convictions  and 
most  positive  faiths  of  the  nation,  and  so  they 
ought  to  be  available  for  the  decision  of  ques- 
tions of  detail. 

In  order,  however,  that  they  may  be  so  em- 
ployed successfully  and  correctly  it  is  essential 
that  the  terms  should  be  correctly  defined,  and 
that  their  popular  use  should  conform  to  cor 
reel  definitions.  No  doubt  it  is  generally  be« 
lieved  that  the  terms  are  easily  understood, 
and  present  no  difficulty.  Probably  the  pop- 
ular notion  is,  that  liberty  means  doing  as  one 
has  a  mind  to,  and  that  it  is  a  metaphysical 
or  sentimental  good.  A  little  observation 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  29 

shows  that  there  is  no  such  thing  in  this 
world  as  doing  as  one  has  a  mind  to.  There 
is  no  man,  from  the  tramp  up  to  the  Presi- 
dent, the  Pope,  or  the  Czar,  who  can  do  as 
he  has  a  mind  to.  There  never  has  been  any 
man,  from  the  primitive  barbarian  up  to  a 
Humboldt  or  a  Darwin,  who  could  do  as  he 
had  a  mind  to.  The  "  Bohemian  "  who  deter- 
mines to  realize  some  sort  of  liberty  of  this 
kind  accomplishes  his  purpose  only  by  sacri- 
ficing most  of  the  rights  and  turning  his  back 
on  most  of  the  duties  gf_acivjlizedjiian,  while 
filching  as  much  as  he  can  of  the  advantages 
of  living  in  a  civilized  state.  Moreover,  lil?- 
j3rty  is  not  a  metaphysical  or  sentimental  thing 
at  all.  It  is  positive,  practical,  and  actual.  It 
is  produced  an^malirfainedrby  law  and"  insti- 
tutions, and  is,  therefore,  concrete  and  histor- 
ical. Sometimes  we  speak  distinctively  of 
civil  liberty;  but  if  there  be  any  liberty 
other  than  civil  liberty  —  that  is,  liberty  un- , 
dor  law  —  it  is  a  mere  fiction  of  the  school- 
men, which  they  may  be  left  to  discuss. 

Even  as  I  write,  however,  I  find  in  a  lead- 
ing review  the  following  definition  of  liberty : 
Civil  liberty  is  "  the  result  of  the  restraint  ex- 
ercised by  the  sovereign  people  on  the  more 


30  WHAT    SOCIAL   CLASSES 

powerful  individuals  and  classes  of  the  com- 
munity, preventing  them  from  availing  them- 
selves of  the  excess  of  their  power  to  the  det- 
riment of  the  other  classes."  This  definition 
lays  the  foundation  for  the  result  which  it  is 
apparently  desired  to  reach,  that  "a  govern- 
ment by  the  people  can  in  no  case  become  a 
paternal  government,  since  its  law-makers  are 
its  mandatories  and  servants  carrying  out  its 
will,  and  not  its  fathers  or  its  masters."  Here 
we  have  the  most  mischievous  fallacy  under 
the  general  topic  which  I  am  discussing  dis- 
tinctly formulated.  In  the  definition  of  lib- 
erty it  will  be  noticed  that  liberty  is  construed 
as  the  act  of  the  sovereign  people  against 
somebody  who  must,  of  course,  be  differenti- 
ated from  the  sovereign  people.  "Whenever 
"people"  is  used  in  this  sense  for  anything 
less  than  the  total  population,  man,  woman, 
child,  and  baby,  and  whenever  the  great  dog- 
mas which  contain  the  word  "  people  "  are  con- 
strued under  the  limited  definition  of  "peo- 
ple," there  is  always  fallacy. 

History  is  only  a  tiresome  repetition  of  one 
1  story.    Persons  and  classes  have  sought  to  win 
possession  of  the  power  of  the  State  in  order 
to  live  luxuriously  out  of  the  earnings  of 


\ 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  31 

others.  Autocracies,  aristocracies,  theocra- 
cies, and  all  other  organizations  for  holding 
political  power,  have  exhibited  only  the  same 
line  of  action.  It  is  the  extreme  of  political 
error  to  say  that  if  political  power  is  only 
taken  away  from  generals,  nobles,  priests,  mil- 
lionnaires,  and  scholars,  and  given  to  artisans 
and  peasants,  these  latter  may  be  trusted  to 
do  only  right  and  justice,  and  never  to  abuse 
the  power ;  that  they  will  repress  all  excess  in 
others,  and  commit  none  themselves.  They 
will  commit  abuse,  if  they  can  and  dare,  just  as 
others  have  done.  The  reason  for  the  excesses 
pf  the  old  governing  classes  lies  injLlifi-jdl 
knd  passions  of  human  nature-cupidity,  lust, 
iindictiveness,  ambition,  and  vanity.  These, 
vices  are  confined  to  no  nation,  class,  or  age! 
They  appear  in  the  church,  the  academy,  the 
workshop,  and  the  hovel,  as  well  as  in  the 
army  or  the  palace.  They  have  appeared  in 
autocracies,  aristocracies,  theocracies^  democ- 
racies, and  ochlocracies,  all  alike.  LThe  only 
thing  which  has  ever  restrained  these  vices  of 
human  nature  in  those  who  had  political  pow- 
^r  is  law  sustained  by  impersonal  ^institutions^ 
I  If  political  power  be  given  tv  the  massesTwho 
\.have  not  hitherto  had  it,  nothing  will  stop 


32 


WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 


them  from  abusing  it  but  laws  arid  institu- 
tions. To  say  that  a  popular  government  can- 
not be  paternal  is  to  give  it  a  charter  that  it 

can  do  no  wrong.     The  trouble  is  that  a  dem- 

'••-  '<*—•**/  t    t 

ocratic  government  is  in  greater  danger  than 

any  other  of  becoming  paternal,  for  it  is  sure 
of  itself,  and  ready  to  undertake  anything,  and 
'  its  power  is  excessive  and  pitiless  against  dis- 
sentients. 

/        ^Whatjhistory  shows  is,  that  rights  are  safe 
*         only  when  guaranteecT"  against   all  arbitrary 


power,  and  all  class  and  personal  interesT. 
Around  an  autocrat  there  has  grown  up  an 
oligarchy  of  priests  and  soldiers.  In  time  a 
class  of  nobles  has  been  developed,  who  have 
broken  into  the  oligarchy  and  made  an  aris- 
tocracy. Later  the  demos  ^  rising  into  inde- 
pendent development,  has  assumed  power  and 
made  a  democracy.  Then  the  mob  of  a  capi- 
tal city  has  overwhelmed  the  democracy  in 
an  ochlocracy.  Then  the  "idol  of  the  peo- 
ple," or  the  military  "  savior  of  society,"  or 
both  in  one,  has  made  himself  autocrat,  and 
the  same  old  vicious  round  has  recommenced. 
Where  in  all  this  is  liberty?  There  has  been 
no  li^pxty  at  all,  save  where  a  state  has  known 
how  to  break  out,  once  for  all,  from  this  delu- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  33 


round ;  TO  set_bamers  to  selfishness,  cupid- 
ity,  envy,  andjust,  in  all  classes,  from  highest 
to  lowest,  by  laws  and  institutions ;  and  to  ere? 
#te  great  organs  of  civil  life  which  can  elimi- 
nate,  as  farjj^ossible..  arbitrary  and  personaT 
elements  from  ...the  adjustment  of  interests 

Liberty  is  an  af \ 
"of  laws    and    institutions    which 

;  is  noti 

Tecting  the  proper  class 
i  to  rule. 

The  notion  of  a  free  state  is  entirely  mod- 
ern. It  has  been  developed  with  the  develop- 
ment of  the  middle  class,  and  with  the  growth 
of  a  commercial  and  industrial  civilization. 
Horror  at  human  slavery  is  not  a  century  old 
as  a  common  sentiment  in  a  civilized  state, 
The  idea  of  the  "  free  man,"  as  we  understand 
it,  is  the  product  of  a  revolt  against  mediaeval 
and  feudal  ideas ;  and  our  notion  of  equality, 
when  it  is  true  and  practical,  can  be  explained 
only  by  that  revolt.  It  was  in  England  that 
the  modern  idea  found  birth.  It  has  been 
strengthened  by  the  industrial  and  commer- 
cial development  of  that  country.  It  has 
been  inherited  by  all  the  English-speaking 
nations,  who  have  made  liberty  real  because 
3 


34  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

they  have  inherited  it,  not  as  a  notion,  but  as 
a  body  of  institutions.  It  has  been  borrowed 
and  imitated  by  the  military  and  police  states 
of  the  European  continent  so  fast  as  they  have 
felt  the  influence  of  the  expanding  industrial 
civilization  ;  but  they  have  realized  it  only  im- 
perfectly, because  they  have  no  body  of  local 
institutions  or  traditions,  and  it  remains  for 
them  as  yet  too  much  a  matter  of  "  declara- 
tions" and  pronunciamentos. 

The  notion  of  civil  liberty  which  we  have 
inherited  is  that  of  a  status  created  for  the  in- 
dividual by  laws  and  institutions,  the  effect 
of  which  is  that  each  man  is  guaranteed  the 
i  use  of  all  his  ofwn  powers  exclusively  for  his 
\j  own  welfare.     It  is  not  at  all  a  matter  of 
elections,  or  universal  suffrage,  or  democracy. 
institutions  are  to  be  tested  by  the  degree 
to  which  they  guarantee  liberty.     It  is  not  to 
be  admitted  for  a  moment  that  liberty  is  a 
j  means  to  social  ends,  and  that  it  may  be  im- 
\lpaired  for  major  considerations.     Any  one 
who  so  argues  has  lost  the  bearing  and  rela- 
tion of  all  the  facts  and  factors  in  a  free  state. 
A  human  being  has  a  life  to  live,  a  career  to 
run.     He  is  a  centre  of  powers  to  work,  and 
of  capacities  to  suffer.     What  his  powers  may 


fi 
j 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  35 

be — whether  they  can  carry  him  far  or  not ; 
what  his  chances  may  be,  whether  wide  or 
restricted ;  what  his  fortune  may  be,  whether 
to  suffer  much  or  little — are  questions  of  his 
personal  destiny  which  he  must  work  out  and 
endure  as  he  can ;  but  for  all  that  concerns  the 
bearing  of  the  society  and  its  institutions  upon 
that  man,  and  upon  the  sum  of  happiness  to 
which  he  can  attain  during  his  life  on  earth, 
the  product  of  all  history  and  all  philosophy  ^- 
up  to  this  time  is  summed  up  in  the  doctrine, 
,  that  he  should  be  left  free  to  do  the  most  for 
himself  that  he  can,  and  should  be  guaranteed 
the  exclusive  enjoyment  of  all  that  he  does. 
If  the  society — that  is  to  say,  in  plain  termsJ 
if  his  fellow -men,  either  individually,  b$ 
groups,  or  in  a  mass  —  impinge  upon  hin 
otherwise  than  to  surround  him  with  neutra 
conditions  of  security,  they  must  do  so  unde  • 
the  strictest  responsibility  to  justify  them 
selves.  Jealousy  and  prejudice  against  alt 
such  interferences  are  high  political  virtues 
in  a  free  man.  It  is  not  at  all  the  function 
of  the  State  to  make  men  happy.  They  must 
make  themselves  happy  in  their  own  way, 
and  at  their  own  risk.  The  functions  of  the 
State  lie  entirely  in  the  conditions  or  chances 


Q 


WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 


. 


\ 


under  which  the  pursuit  of  happiness  is  car- 
ried on,  so  far  as  those  conditions  or  chances 
can  be  affected  by  civil  organization.  Hence, 
liberty  for  labor  and  security  for  earnings  are 
the  ends  for  which  civil  institutions  exist, 
not  means  which  may  be  employed  for  ul- 
terior ends. 

Now,  the  cardinal  doctrine  of  any  sound 

2^(political  system  is,  that  rights  and  duties 
should  be  in  equilibrium.  A  monarchical 
or  aristocratic  system  is  not  immoral,  if  the 
rights  and  duties  of  persons  and  classes  are 
in  equilibrium,  although  the  rights  and  duties 
of  different  persons  and  classes  are  unequal. 
An  immQral_p.QliticaL^ystein  is  created  when- 

\  jezgrjliere-are  privileged  classes — that  is,  class- 
\  es  who  have  arrogated  to  themselves  rights 
.s.    while  throwing  the  duties  upon  others.^ 

— ^J>  democracy  all  have  equal  political  rights. 
That  is  the  fundamental  political  principle. 
A  democracy,  then,  becomes  immoral,  if  all 
have  not  equal  political  duties.  This  is  un- 
questionably the  doctrine  which  needs  to  be 
reiterated  and  inculcated  beyond  all  others,,  if 
democracy  is  to  be  made  sound  and  p|r- 
manent.  Our  orators  and  writers  never  speak 
of  it,  and  do  not  seem  often  to  know  anything 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 


37 


about  it;  but  the  real  danger  of  democracy 
is,  that  the  classes  which  have  the  power  un- 
der it  will  assume  all  the  rights  and  reject  all 
the  duties — that  is,  that  they  will  use  the  po- 
litical power  to  plunder  those- who-have.     D& 
moeracy,  in  order  to  be  true  to  itself,  and  to 
develop  into  a  sound  working  system,  must 
oppose  the  same  cold  resistance  tp  any  claims 
for  favor  on  the  ground  of  poverty,  as  on  the 
ground  of  birth  and  rank.     It  can  no  mora 
admit  to  public  discussion,  as  within  the  range 
of  possible  action,  any  schemes  for  coddling] 
and  helping  wage-receivers  than  it  could  en-! 
tertain  schemes  for  restricting  political  powei{ 
to  wage-payers.     It  must  put  down  schemes  \ 
for  making  "  the  rich  "  pay  for  whatever  "  the 
poor"  want,  just  as  it  tramples  on  the  old  I 
theories  that  only  the  rich  are  fit  to  regulate  \ 
society.     One  needs  but  to  watch  our  period-  \ 
ical  literature  to  see  the  danger  that  democ-' 
racy  will  be  construed  as  a  system  of  favor- 
ing a  new  privileged  class  of  the  many  and 
the  poor. 

Holding  in  mind,  now,  the  notions  of  liber- 
ty and  democracy  as  we  have  defined  them, 
we  see  that  it  is  not  altogether  a  matter  of 
fanfaronade  when  the  American  citizen  calls 


38  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

himself  a  "sovereign."  I A  member  of  a  free 
democracy  is,  in  a  sense,  a  sovereign.  He  has 
no  superior.  He  has  reached  his  sovereignty, 
however,  by  a  process  of  reduction  and  divis- 
ion of  power  which  leaves  him  no  inferior. 
It  is  very  grand  to  call  one's  self  a  sovereign, 
but  it  is  greatly  to  the  purpose  to  notice  that 
the  political  responsibilities  of  the  free  man 
have  been  intensified  and  aggregated  just  in 
proportion  as  political  rights  have  been  re- 
duced and  divided.  Many  monarchs  have 
been  incapable  of  sovereignty  and  unfit  for  it. 
Placed  in  exalted  situations,  and  inheritors  of 
grand  opportunities,  they  have  exhibited  only 
their  own  imbecility  and  vice.  The  reason 
was,  because  they  thought  only  of  the  gratifi- 
cation of  their  own  vanity,  and  not  at  all  of 
their  duty.  The  free  man  who  steps  forward 
to  claim  his  inheritance  and  endowment  as  a 
free  and  equal  member  of  a  great  civil  body 
must  understand  that  his  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities are  measured  to  him  by  the  same  scale 
as  his  rights  and  his  powers.  He  wants  to  be 
subject  to  no  man.  He  wants  to  be  equal  to 
his  fellows,  as  all  sovereigns  are  equal.  So 
be  it;  but  he  cannot  escape  the  deduction 
that  he  can  call  no  man  to  his  aid.  The  other 


ft 

OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  39 

sovereigns  will  not  respect  his  independence 
if  he  becomes  dependent,  and  they  cannot  re- 
spect his  equality  if  he  sues  for  favors.     The* 
free  man  in  a  free  democracy,  when  he  cut\ 
off  all  the  ties  which  might  pull  him  down, 
-^severed  also  all  the  ties  by  which  he  might 
have  made  others  pull  him  up.     He  must 
take  all  the  consequences  of  his  new  status. 
wl>JIe  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  an  isolated  man.] 

/The  family  tie  does  not  bring  to  Tiim  disgrace 
for  the  misdeeds  of  his  relatives,  as  it  once 
would  have  done,  but  neither  does  it  furnish 
him  with  the  support  which  it  once  would 
have  given.  The  relations  of  men  are  open 
and  free,  but  they  are  also  loose.  A  free  man 
in  a  free  democracy  derogates  from  his  rank 
if  he  takes  a  favor  for  which  he  does  not 
render  an  equivalent. 

A  free  man  in  a  free  democracy  has  no 
duty  whatever  toward  other  men  of  the  same 
rank  and  standing,  except  respect,  courtesy, 
and  good-will.  We  cannot  say  that  there  are 
no  classes,  when  we  are  speaking  politically, 
and  then  say  that  there  are  classes,  when  we 
are  telling  A  what  it  is  his  duty  to  do  for  B. 

|Tn  a  free  state  every  man  is  held  and  expect-i 
ed  to  take  care  of  himself  and  his  family,  to) 


40  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

taiake  no  trouble  for  his  neighbor,  and  to  con- 
tribute  his  full  share  to  public  interests  and 
i     common  necessities^  If  he  fails  in  this  he 
jthrows  burdens  on  others.    He  does  not  there- 
by acquire  rights  against  the  others.     On  the 
Contrary,  he  only  accumulates  obligations  to- 
tvard  them ;  and  if  he  is  allowed  to  make  his 
deficiencies  a  ground  of  new  claims,  he  passes 
over  into  the  position  of  a  privileged  or  pet- 
ted  person  —  emancipated  from   duties,   en- 
I  dowed  with  claims.     This  is  the  inevitable 
.,-••    j  result  of  combining  democratic  political  tlie- 

I  ories  with   humanitarian   social   theories.     It 

- 

1  would  be  aside  from  my  present  purpose  to 
show,  but  it  is  worth  noticing  in  passing,  that 
one  result  of  such  inconsistency  must  surely 
be  to  undermine  democracy,  to  increase  the 
power  of  wealth  in  the  democracy,  and  to 
hasten  the  subjection  of  democracy  to  plutoc- 
racy ;  for  a  man  who  accepts  any  share  which 
he  has  not  earned  in  another  man's  capital 
cannot  be  an  independent  citizen. 

It  is  often  affirmed  that  the  educated  and 
wealthy  have  an  obligation  to  those  who  have 
less  education  and  property,  just  because  the 
latter  have  political  equality  with  the  former, 
and  oracles  and  warnings  are  uttered  about 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  4:1 

what  will  happen  if  the  uneducated  classes 
who  have  the  suffrage  are  not  instructed  at 
the  care  and  expense  of  the  other  classes.  In 
this  view  of  the  matter  universal  suffrage  is 
not  a  measure  for  strengthening  the  State  by 
bringing  to  its  support  the  aid  and  affection 
of  all  classes,  but  it  is  a  new  burden,  and,  in 
fact,  a  peril.  Those  who  favor  it  represent  it 
ag^j^pgrik  This  doctrine  is  politically  im- 
moral and  vicious.  When  a  community  es- 
tablishes universal  suffrage,  it  is  as  if  it  said 
to  each  new-comer,  or  to  each  young  man: 
"  We  give  you  every  chance  that  any  one  else 
has.  Now  come  along  with  us ;  take  care  of 
yourself,  and  contribute  your  share  to  the  bur- 
dens which  we  all  have  to  bear  in  order  to  sup- 
port social  institutions."  Certainly,  liberty, 
and  universal  suffrage,  and  democracy  are  not 
pledges  of  care  and  protection,  but  they  carry 
with  them  the  exaction  of  individual  respon- 
sibility. The  State  gives  equal  rights  ancT"^ 
equal  chances  just  because  it  does  not  mean  / 
1  to  give  anything  else.  It  sets  each  man  on 
his  feet,  and  gives  him  leave  to  run,  just  be- 
cause it  does  not  mean  to  carry  him.  Having 
obtained  his  chances,  he  must  take  upon  him- 
self the  responsibility  for  his  own  success  or 


4:2  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

failure.     It  is  a  pure  misfortune  to  the  com- 
munity, and  one  which  will  redound  to  its 
injury,  if  any  man  has  been  endowed  with 
political  power  who  is  a  heavier  burden  then 
?  than  he  was  before ;  but  it  cannot  be  said  that 
<  there  is  any  new  duty  created  for  the  good 
;  citizens  toward  the  bad  by  the  fact  that  the 
bad  citizens  are  a  harm  to  the  State. 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  43 


III. 

THAT  IT  18  NOT  WICKED  TO  BE  RICH;  NA  Y, 
EVEN,  THAT  IT  IS  NOT  WICKED  TO  BU 
RICHER  THAN  ONE'S  NEIGHBOR, 

I  HAVE  before  me  a  newspaper  slip  on 
which  a  writer  expresses  the  opinion  that  no 
one  should  be  allowed  to  possess  more  than 
one  million  dollars'  worth  of  property.  Along- 
side of  it  is  another  slip,  on  which  another 
writer  expresses  the  opinion  that  the  limit 
should  be  five  millions.  I  do  not  know  what 
the  comparative  wealth  of  the  two  writers  is, 
but  it  is  interesting  to  notice  that  there  is  a 
wide  margin  between  their  ideas  of  how  rich 
they  would  allow  their  fellow-citizens  to  be- 
come, and  of  the  point  at  which  they  ("the 
State,"  of  course)  would  step  in  to  rob  a  man 
of  his  earnings.  These  two  writers  only  rep- 
resent a  great  deal  of  crude  thinking  and  de- 
claiming which  is  in  fashion.  I  never  have 
known  a  man  of  ordinary  common-sense  who 
did  not  urge  upon  his  sons,  from  earliest  child- 
hood3  doctrines  of  economy  and  the  practice 


WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


of  accumulation.  A  good  father  believes  that 
he  does  wisely  to  encourage  enterprise,  pro- 
ductive skill,  prudent  self-denial,  and  judicious 
expenditure  on  the  part  of  his  son.  The  ob- 
ject is  to  teach  the  boy  to  accumulate  capital. 
If,  however,  the  boy  should  read  many  of  the 
diatribes  against  "the  rich"  which  are  afloat 
in  our  literature;  if  he  should  read  or  hear 
some  of  the  current  discussion  about  "capi- 
tal ;"  and  if,  with  the  ingenuousness  of  youth, 
he  should  take  these  productions  at  their  lit- 
eral sense,  instead  of  discounting  them,  as  his 
father  does,  he  would  be  forced  to  believe 
that  he  was  on  the  path  of  infamy  when  he 
was  earning  and  saving  capital.  It  is  worth 
while  to  consider  which  we  mean  or  what  we 
mean.  Is  it  wicked  to  be  rich?  Is  it  mean 
to  be  a  capitalist  ?  If  the  question  is  one  of 
degree  only,  and  it  is  right  to  be  rich  up  to 
a  certain  point  and  wrong  to  be  richer,  how 
shall  we  find  the  point  ?  Certainly,  for  prac- 
tical purposes,  we  ought  to  define  the  point 
nearer  than  between  one  and  five  millions  of 
dollars. 

There  is  an  old  ecclesiastical  prejudice  in 
favor  of  the  poor  and  against  the  rich.  In 
days  when  men  acted  by  ecclesiastical  rules 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  4:5  /* 

these  prejudices  produced  waste  of  capital, 
and  helped  mightily  to  replunge  Europe  into  \ 
barbarism.  The  prejudices  are  not  yet  dead, 
but  they  survive  in  our  society  as  ludicrous 
contradictions  and  inconsistencies.  One  thing 
must  be  granted  to  the  rich :  they  are  good- 
natured.  Perhaps  they  do  not  recognize 
themselves,  for  a  rich  man  is  even  harder  to 
define  than  a  poor  one.  It  is  not  uncommon 
to  hear  a  clergyman  utter  from  the  pulpit  all 
the  old  prejudice  in  favor  of  the  poor  and 
against  the  rich,  while  asking  the  rich  to  do 
something  for  the  poor ;  and  the  rich  comply, 
without  apparently  having  their  feelings  hurt 
at  all  by  the  invidious  comparison.  We  al 
agree  that  he  is  a  good  member  of  societj 
who  works  his  way  up  from  poverty  to  wealth, 
but  as  soon  as  he  has  worked  his  way  up  we 
begin  to  regard  him  with  suspicion,  as  a  dan- 
gerous member  of  society.  A  newspaper  starts  I 
the  silly  fallacy  that  "  the  rich  are  rich  because 
the  poor  are  industrious,"  and  it  is  copied  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other  as  if  it 
were  a  brilliant  apothegm.  "  Capital "  is  de- 
nounced by  writers  and  speakers  who  have 
never  taken  the  trouble  to  find  out  what  capi- 
tal is,  and  who  use  the  word  in  two  or  three 


4:6  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

different  senses  in  as  many  pages.  I^abor  or- 
*  J")  ganizations  are  formed,  not  to  employ  com-_ 
bined  effort  for  a  common  object,  but  to  in- 
Tfulge  in  declamation  and  denunciation,  and 
especially  to  furnish  an  easy  living  to  some 
officers  who  do  not  want  to  work.  People 
Who  have  rejected  dogmatic  religion,  and  re- 
tained only  a  residuum  of  religious  sentimen- 
talisin,  find  a  special  field  in  the  discussion  of 
the  rights  of  the  poor  and  the  duties  of  the 
rich.  We  have  denunciations  of  banks,  cor- 
porations, and  monopolies,  which  denuncia- 
tions encourage  only  helpless  rage  and  ani- 
mosity, because  they  are  not  controlled  by 
any  definitions  or  limitations,  or  by  any  distinc- 
tions between  what  is  indispensably  necessary 
and  what  is  abuse,  between  what  is  established 
in  the  order  of  nature  and  what  is  legislative 
error.  Think,  for  instance,  of  a  journal  which 
makes  it  its  special  business  to  denounce  mo- 
nopolies, yet  favors  a  protective  tariff,  and  has 
not  a  word  to  say  against  trades-unions  or 
patents!  Think  of  public  teachers  who  say 
that  the  farmer  is  ruined  by  the  cost  of  trans- 
portation, when  they  mean  that  he  cannot 
make  any  profits  because  his  farm  is  too  far 
from  the  market,  and. ..jffihfi  denouao©--  the 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 


47 


istfti 


railroad  because  jt 

f armef^^itjtheexpenBe j^itsj^ockhplderSj,  the 
disadvantage  which  lies  in  the  physical  situa- 
tion of  the  farm!  Think  of  that  construe-'" 
tion  of  this  situation  which  attributes  all  the 
trouble  to  the  greed  of  "moneyed  corpora- 
tions!" Think  of  the  piles  of  rubbish  that 
one  has  read  about  corners,  and  watering 
stocks,  and  selling  futures! 

Undoubtedly  there  are,  in  connection  with 
each  of  these  things,  cases  of  fraud,  swindling, 
and  other  financial  crimes ;_  that  is  to  say,  the 
greed  and  selfishness  of  men  are  perpetual. 
They  put  on  new  phases,  they  adjust  Hiem- 
selves  to  new  forms  of  business,  and  constant- 
ly devise  new  methods  of  fraud  and  robbery, 
just  as  burglars  devise  new  artifices  to  circum- 
vent every  new  precaution  of  the  lock-makers. 
The  criminal  law  needs  to  be  improved  to 
meet  new  forms  of  crime,  buL to  denounce  %,/ 
financial  devices  which  are  useful  and  legiti- 
mate because  use  is  made  of  them  for  fraud, 
is  ridiculous  and  unworthy  of  the  age  in  which 
we  live.  Fifty  years  ago  good  old  Englishi 
Tories  used  to  denounce  all  joint-stock  com- 
panies in  the  same  way,  and  for  similar  rea- 
sons. 


48  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

fr  All  the  denunciations  and  declamations 
I  which  have  been  referred  to  are  made  in  the 
/  interest  of  "  the  poor  man."  His  name  never 
ceases  to  echo  in  the  halls  of  legislation,  and 
he  is  the  excuse  and  reason  for  all  the  acts 
which  are  passed.  He  is  never  forgotten  in 
poetry,  sermon,  or  essay.  His  interest  is  in- 
voked to  defend  every  doubtful  procedure  and 
\every  questionable  institution.  Yet  where  is 
[he  ?  Who  is  he  ?  Who  ever  saw  him  ?  When 
did  he  ever  get  the  benefit  of  any  of  the  num- 
berless efforts  in  his  behalf  ?  When,  rather, 
was  his  name  and  interest  ever  invoked,  when, 
upon  examination,  it  did  not  plainly  appear 
that  somebody  else  was  to  win — somebody 
who  was  far  too  "  smart"  ever  to  be  poor,  far 
too  lazy  ever  to  be  rich  by  industry  and 
economy  ? 

A  great  deal  is  said  about  the  unearned  in- 
crement from  land,  especially  with  a  view  to 
the  large  gains  of  landlords  in  old  countries. 
The  unearned  increment  from  land  has  indeed 
made  the  position  of  an  English  land-owner, 
for  the  last  two  hundred  years,  the  most  fort- 
unate that  any  class  of  mortals  ever  has  en- 
joyed ;  but  the  present  moment,  when  the  rent 
of  agricultural  land  in  England  is  declining 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEB.  49 

under  the  competition  of  American  land,  is 
not  well  chosen  for  attacking  the  old  advan- 
tage. Furthermore,  the  unearned  increment 
from  land  appears  in  the  United  States  as  a 
gain  to  the  first  comers,  who  have  here  laid 
the  foundations  of  a  new  State.  Since  the 
land  is  a  monopoly,  the  unearned  increment 
lies  in  the  laws  of  Nature.  Then  the  only 
question  is,  Who  shall  have  it  ?— the  man  who 
Has  The  ownership  by  prescription,  or  some  or 
all  others  ?  It  is  a  beneficent  incident  of  the 
ownership  of  land  that  a  pioneer  who  reduces 
it  to  use,  and  helps  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a 
new  State,  finds  a  profit  in  the  increasing  value 
of  land  as  the  new  State  grows  up.  It  would  $tfi~  *****  *\ 
be  unjust  jto  take  that  profit  away  from  him^  ^*  ^ 
or  from  any  successor  to  whom  he  has  sold  it. 
Moreover,  there  is  an  unearned  increment  on 
capital  and  on  laboj^due  to  the  presence,  aroumi 
2ie  capitalist  and  the  laborer^of-a-^eai^in- 
dustrious,  and  prosperous  society.  A  tax  on 
land  and  a  succession  or  probate  duty  on  capi- 
jl  might  be  perfectly  justified  by  these  facts. 
Unquestionably  capital  accumulates  with  a 
rapidity  which  follows  in  some  high  series  the 
security,  good  government,  peaceful  order  of 
the  State  in  which  it  is  employed ;  and  if  the 


50  WHAT  SOCIAL   CLASSES 

State  steps  in,  on  the  death  of  the  holder,  to 
claim  a  share  of  the  inheritance,  such  a  claim 
may  be  fully  justified.  The  laborer  likewise 
gains  by  carrying  on  his  labor  in  a  strong, 
highly  civilized,  and  well-governed  State  far 
more  than  he  could  gain  with  equal  industry 
on  the  frontier  or  in  the  midst  of  anarchy. 
He  gains  greater  remuneration  for  his  ser- 
vices, and  he  also  shares  in  the  enjoyment  of 
all  that  accumulated  capital  of  a  wealthy  com- 
munity which  is  public  or  semi-public  in  its 
nature. 

It  is  often  said  that  the  earth  belongs  to  the 
frace,  as  if  raw  land  was  a  boon,  or  gift.     Raw 
land  is  only  a  chance  to  prosecute  the  strug- 
gle for  existence,  and  the  man  who  tries  to 
learn  a  living  by  the  subjugation  of  raw  land 
/makes  that  attempt  under  the  most  unfavor- 
jjable  conditions,  for  land  can  be  brought  into 
(use  only  by  great  hardship  and  exertion.    The 
boon,  or  gift,  would  be  to  get  some  land  after 
somebody  else  had  made  it  fit  for  use.     Any 
one  in  the  world  to-clay  can  have  raw  land  by 
going  to  it ;  but  there  are  millions  who  would 
regard  it  simply  as  "  transportation  for  life," 
if  they  were  forced  to  go  and  live  on  new 
land  and  get  their  living  out  of  it.     Private 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  51 

ownership  of  land  is  only  division  of  labor. 
If  it  is  true  in  any  sense  that  we  all  own  the 
soil  in  common,  the  best  use  we  can  make  of 
our  undivided  interests  is  to  vest  them  al 
gratuitously  (just  as  we  now  do)  in  any  whc 
will  assume  the  function  of  directly  treating 
the  soil,  while  the  rest  of  us  take  other  shares 
in  the  social  organization.  The  reason  is,  be- 
cause in  this  way  we  all  get  more  than  we 
would  if  each  one  owned  some  land  and  used 
it  directly.  Supply  and  demand  now  deter- 
mine the  distribution  of  population  between 
the  direct  use  of  land  and  other  pursuits ;  and 
if  the  total  profits  and  chances  of  land-culture 
were  reduced  by  taking  all  the  "unearned 
increment "  in  taxes,  there  would  simply  be  a 
redistribution  of  industry  until  the  profits  of 
land -culture,  less  taxes  and  without  chances 
from  increasing  value,  were  equal  to  the  prof- 
its of  other  pursuits  under  exemption  from 
taxation. 

It  is  remarkable  that  jealousy  of  individual 
property  in  land  often  goes  along  with  very 
exaggerated  doctrines  of  tribal  or  national 
property  in  land.  We  are  told  that  John, 
James,  and  William  ought  not  to  possess  part 
of  the  earth's  surface  because  it  belongs  to 


52  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

all  men ;  but  it  is  held  that  Egyptians,  Nica 
raguans,  or  Indians  have  such  right  to  the  ter- 
ritory which  they  occupy,  that  they  may  bar 
the  avenues  of  commerce  and  civilization  if 
they  choose,  and  that  it  is  wrong  to  override 
their  prejudices  or  expropriate  their  land. 
The  truth  is,  that  the  notion  that  the  race 
own  the  earth  has  practical  meaning  only  for 
the  latter  class  of  cases. 

^  The  great  gains  of  a  great  capitalist  in  a 
modern  state  must  be  put  under  the  head  of 
wages  of  superintendence.  Any  one  who  be- 
lieves that  any  great  enterprise  of  an  industri- 
al character  can  be  started  without  labor  must 
have  little  experience  of  life.  Let  any  one 
try  to  get  a  railroad  built,  or  to  start  a  factory 
and  win  reputation  for  its  products,  or  to  start 
a  school  and  win  a  reputation  for  it,  or  to  found 
a  newspaper  and  make  it  a  success,  or  to  start 
any  other  enterprise,  and  he  will  find  what 
obstacles  must  be  overcome,  what  risks  must 
be  taken,  what  perseverance  and  courage  are 
required,  what  foresight  and  sagacity  are  nec- 
essary. Especially  in  a  new  country,  where 
many  tasks  are  waiting,  where  resources  are 
strained  to  the  utmost  all  the  time,  the  judg- 
ment, courage,  and  perseverance  required  to 


OWE   TO    EACH   OTHER.  53 

organize  new  enterprises  and  carry  them  to 
success  are  sometimes  heroic.  Persons  who 
possess  the  necessary  qualifications  obtain 
great  rewards.  They  ought  to  do  so.  It  is 
foolish  to  rail  at  them.  Then,  again,  the  abili- 
ty to  organize  and  conduct  industrial,  eommerA 
cial,  or  financial  enterprises  is  rare ;  the  great! 
captains  of  industry  are  as  rare  as  great  gener-l 
als.  The  great  weakness  of  all  co-operative' 
enterprises  is  in  the  matter  of  supervision. 
Men  of  routine  or  men  who  can  do  what  they 
are  told  are  not  hard  to  find ;  but  men  who 
can  think  and  plan  and  tell  the  routine  men 
what  to  do  are  very  rare.  They  are  paid  in 
proportion  to  the  supply  and  demand  of 
them. 

If  Mr.  A.  T.  Stewart  made  a  great  fortune 
by  collecting  and  bringing  dry-goods  to  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  he  did  so  because 
he  understood  how  to  do  that  thing  better 
than  any  other  man  of  his  generation.  He 
proved  it,  because  he  carried  the  business 
through  commercial  crises  and  wTar,  and  kept 
increasing  its  dimensions.  If,  when  he  died, 
he  left  no  competent  successor,  the  business 
must  break  up,  and  pass  into  new  organization 
in  the  hands  of  other  men.  Some  have  said 


54:  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

that  Mr.  Stewart  maide  his  fortune  out  of  those 
who  worked  for  him  or  with  him.    But  would 
those  persons  have  been  able  to  come  togeth- 
er, organize  themselves,  and  earn  what  they 
did  earn  without  him?     Not  at  all.     They 
would  have  been  comparatively  helpless.     He 
and  they  together  formed  a  great  system  of 
factories,    stores,    transportation,    under    his 
guidance  and  judgment.    It  was  for  the  bene- 
fit of  all;  but  he  contributed  to  it  what  no 
one  else  was  able  to  contribute — the  one  guid- 
ing mind  which  made  the  whole  thing  possi- 
bleX  In  no  sense  whatever  does  a  man  who 
y     accumulates  a  fortune  by  legitimate  industry 
exploit  his  employes,  or  make  his  capital  "  out 
of  "  anybody  else.    The  wealth  which  he  wins 
\     would  not  be  but  for  him.^ 
\       The  aggregation  of  large fortunes  is  not  at 
\  all  a  thing  to  be  regretted.     On  the  contrary, 
\  it  is  a  jiecessary  condition.^ ..many  forms  of 
-  social  advance.     If  we  should  set  a  limit  to 
the  accumulation  of  wealth,  we  should  say  to 
our  most  valuable  producers,  "We   do  not 
want  you  to  do  us  the  services  which  you  best 
understand  how  to  perform,  beyond  a  certain 
point."     It  would  be  like  killing  off  our  gen- 
erals in  war.     A  great  deal  is  said,  in  the  cant 


9  WE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  55 

of  a  certain  school,  about  "ethical  views  of 
wealth/'  and  we  are  told  that  some  day  men 
will  be  found  of  such  public  spirit  that,  after 
they  have  accumulated  a  few  millions,  they 
will  be  willing  to  go  on  and  labor  simply  for 
the  pleasure  of  paying  the  taxes  of  their  fel- 
low-citizens. Possibly  this  is  true.  It  is  a 
prophecy.  It  is  as  impossible  to  deny  it  as  it 
is  silly  to  affirm  it.  For  if  a  time  ever  comes 
when  there  are  men  of  this  kind,  the  men  of 
that  age  will  arrange  their  affairs  accordingly. 
There  are  no  such  men  now,  and  those  of  us 
who  live  now  cannot  arrange  our  affairs  by 
what  men  will  be  a  hundred  generations 
hence. 

There  is  every  indication  that  we  are  to  see 
n$w  developments  of  the  power  of  aggregated 

"NUu    .  —  — — ~ * — *•—    — — - — ;  t          ;'  '* — — . &V CU*. 

capital  to  serve  civilization^  and  that  the  new 


-.  mad  ft  Bright  here  in 
America.  Joint -stock  companies  are  yet  in 
their  infancy^^^mgoi^oratetf  capital,  instead 
of  being  a  thing  wnich  can  be  overturned,  is 
a  thing  which  is  becoming  more  and  more  in- 
dispensable. I  shall  have  something  to  say 
in  another  chapter  about  the  necessary  checks 
and  guarantees,  m_a  political  point- of  yiesK, 
which  must  be  established.  Economically 


56  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

speaking,  aggregated  capital  will  be  more  and 
more  essential  to  the  performance  of  our  so- 
rcial  tasks.  Furthermore,  it  seems  to  ine  cer- 
Jtain  that  all  aggregated  capital  will  fall  more 
/  and  more  under  personal  control.  Each  great 
I  company  will  be  known  as  controlled  by  one 
master  mind.  fe3?he  reason  for  this  lies  in  the 


> 

V  /great  superiority  of  personal  management  over 
O^  j  I  management  by  boards  and  committees/]  This 
tendency  is  in  the  public  interest,  for  it  is  in 
the  direction  of  more  satisfactory  responsibil- 
ity. The  great  hinderance  to  the  development 
of  this  continent  has  lain  in  the  lack  of  capi- 
tal. The  capital  which  we  have  had  has  been 
wasted  by  division  and  dissipation,  and  by  in- 
judicious applications.  The  waste  of  capital, 
in  proportion  to  the  total  capital,  in  this  coun- 
try between  1800  and  1850,  in  the  attempts 
which  were  made  to  establish  means  of  com- 
munication and  transportation,  was  enormous. 
The  waste  wras  chiefly  due  to  ignorance  and 
bad  management,  especially  to  State  control 
of  public  works.  We  are  to  see  the  develop- 
ment of  the  country  pushed  forward  at  an  un- 
precedented rate  by  an  aggregation  of  capital, 
and  a  systematic  application  of  it  under  the 
direction  of  competent  men.  This  develop- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  51 

ment  will  be  for  the  benefit  of  all,  and  it  will 
enable  each  one  of  us,  in  his  measure  and  way, 
to  increase  his  wealth.  We  may  each  of  us 
go  ahead  to  do  so,  and  we  have  every  reason 
to  rejoice  in  each  other's  prosperity.  Theref 
ought  to  be  no  laws  to  guarantee  propertyL.'^ 


the  folly  of  its  possessors.     Injfche  ab 
senceoj^  such  laws,  capital  "Inherited by  a 

spendthrift  will  be  squandered  and  re-accu- 
mulated in  the  hands  of  men  who  are  fit  an/1 
competent  to  hold  it.  So  it  should  be,  and 
under  such  a  state  of  things  there  is  no  reason 
to  desire  to  limit  the  property  which  any  man 
may  acquire. 


58  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


IV. 

ON  THE  REASONS  WHY  MAN  IS  NOT 
ALTOGETHER  A  BRUTE. 

THE  Arabs  have  a  story  of  a  man  who  de- 
sired to  test  which  of  his  three  sons  loved  him 
most.  He  sent  them  out  to  see  which  of  the 
three  would  bring  him  the  most  valuable  pres- 
ent. The  three  sons  met  in  a  distant  city,  and 
compared  the  gifts  they  had  found.  The  first 
had  a  carpet  on  which  he  could  transport  him- 
self and  others  whithersoever  he  would.  The 
second  had  a  medicine  which  would  cure  any 
disease.  The  third  had  a  glass  in  which  he 
could  see  what  was  going  on  at  any  place  he 
might  name.  The  third  used  his  glass  to  see 
what  was  going  on  at  home :  he  saw  his  father 
ill  in  bed.  The  first  transported  all  three  to 
their  home  on  his  carpet.  The  second  admin- 
istered the  medicine  and  saved  the  father's 
life.  The  perplexity  of  the  father  when  he 
had  to  decide  which  son's  gift  had  been  of  the 
most  value  to  him  illustrates  very  fairly  the 
difficulty  of  saying  whether  land,  labor,  or 


OWE    TO    EACH    OTHER.  59 

capital  is  most  essential  to  production.  No 
production  is  possible  without  the  co-opera- 
tion of  all  three. 

We  know  that  men  once  lived  on  the  spon- 
taneous fruits  of  the  earth,  just  as  other  ani- 
mals do.  In  that  stage  of  existence  a  man 
was  just  like  the  brutes.  His  existence  was 
at  the  sport  of  Nature.  He  got  what  he  could 
by  way  of  food,  and  ate  what  he  could  get, 
but  he  depended  on  finding  what  Nature  gave. 
He  could  wrest  nothing  from  Nature ;  he  could 
make  her  produce  nothing ;  and  he  had  only 
his  limbs  with  which  to  appropriate  what  she 
offered.  His  existence  was  almost  entirely 
controlled  by  accident;  he  possessed  no  capi- 
tal ;  he  lived  out  of  his  product,  and  produc- 
tion had  only  the  two  elements  of  land  and 
labor  of  appropriation.  At  the  present  time 
man  is  an  intelligent  animal.  He  knows  some- 
thing of  the  laws  of  Nature ;  he  can  avail  him- 
self of  what  is  favorable,  and  avert  what  is 
unfavorable,  in  nature,  to  a  certain  extent ;  he 
has  narrowed  the  sphere  of  accident,  and  in 
some  respects  reduced  it  to  computations 
which  lessen  its  importance;  he  can  bring 
the  productive  forces  of  Nature  into  service, 
and  make  them  produce  food,  clothing,  and 


60  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

shelter.  How  has  the  change  been  brought 
about  ?  The  answer  is,  By  capital.  If  we  can 
come  to  an  understanding- 


and  what  a  place  it  occupies  in  civilization, 
it  will  clear  up  our  ideas^  about  a  great  many 
of  these^scEemes.  and-j)hilQSQpIiies  which  are 
put  forward  to  criticise  social  ftrra.ngftTr^ntfl3 
^rjiK^jiflRis  of  proposed  reforms. 

The  first  beginnings  of  capital  are  lost  in 
the  obscurity  which  covers  all  the  germs  of 
civilization.  The  more  one  comes  to  under- 
stand the  case  of  the  primitive  man,  the  more 
wonderful  it  seems  that  man  ever  started  on 
the  road  to  civilization.  Among  the  lower 
animals  we  find  some  inchoate  forms  of  capi- 
tal, but  from  them  to  the  lowest  forms  of  real 
capital  there  is  a  great  stride.  It  does  not 
seem  possible  that  man  could  have  taken  that 
stride  without  intelligent  reflection,  and  every- 
thing we  know  about  the  primitive  man  shows 
us  that  he  did  not  reflect.  No  doubt  accident 
controlled  the  first  steps.  They  may  have 
been  won  and  lost  again  many  times.  There 
was  one  natural  element  which  man  learned 
to  use  so  early  that  we  cannot  find  any  trace 
of  him  when  he  had  it  not — fire.  There  was 
one  tool- weapon  in  nature — the  flint.  Beyond 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEK.  61 

the  man  who  was  so  far  superior  to  the  brutes 
that  he  knew  how  to  use  fire  and  had  the  use 
of  flints  we  cannot  go.  A  man  of  lower  civil- 
ization than  that  was  so  like  the  brutes  that, 
like  them,  he  could  leave  no  sign  of  his  pres- 
ence on  the  earth  save  his  bones. 

The  man  who  had  a  flint  no  longer  need  be 
a  prey  to  a  wild  animal,  but  could  make  a  prey 
of  it.  He  could  get  meat  food.  He  who  had 
meat  food  could  provide  his  food  in  such  time 
as  to  get  leisure  to  improve  his  flint  tools.  He 
could  get  skins  for  clothing,  bones  for  needles, 
tendons  for  thread.  He  next  devised  traps 
and  snares  by  which  to  take  animals  alive. 
He  domesticated  them,  and  lived  on  their  in- 
crease. He  made  them  beasts  of  draught  and 
burden,  and  so  got  the  use  of  a  natural  force. 
He  who  had  beasts  of  draught  and  burden 
could  make  a  road  and  trade,  and  so  get  the 
advantage  of  alt  soils  and  all  climates.  He 
could  make  a  boat,  and  use  the  winds  as  force. 
He  now  had  such  tools,  science,  and  skill  that 
he  could  till  the  ground,  and  make  it  give  him 
more  food.  SoJErom  the  first  step  that  maiN-—^ 
made  aboye^  the  brute  the  thing  which  made!  jS 
his  civilization  possible  was  capital.  Every  stepr 
of  capital  won  made  the  next  step  possible,  up 


62  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

to  the  present  hour.  Not  a  step  has  been 
or  can  be  made  without(capitafy  It  is  labor 
accumulated,  multiplied^  into  itself — raised  to 
aThigher  power,  as  the  mathematicians  say. 
The  locomotive  is  only  possible  to-day  be- 
cause, from  the  flint-knife  up,  one  achieve- 
ment has  been  multiplied  into  another  through 
thousands  of  generations.  We  cannot  now 
stir  a  step  in  our  life  without  capital.  We 
cannot  build  a  school,  a  hospital,  a  church,  or 
employ  a  missionary  society,  without  capital, 
any  more  than  we  could  build  a  palace  or  a 
factory  without  capital.  We  have  ourselves, 
and  we  have  the  earth ;  the  thing  which  limits 
what  we  can  do  is  the  third  requisite — capital. 
Capital  is  force,  human  energy^ jstoredjjr  ac- 
cumulatgd,  and  very  few  people  ever  cgme  to 
appreciate  itsjjiiportance  tojciviljzed  life.;  We 
get  so  used  to  it  that  we  do  not  see  its  use. 

The  industrial  organization  of  society  has 
undergone  a  development  with  the  develop- 
ment of  capital.  Nothing  has  ever  made  men  - 
spread  over  the  earth  and  develop  the  arts  but 
necessity — that  is,  the  need  of  getting  a  liv- 
ing, and  the  hardships  endured  in  trying  to 
meet  that  need.  The  human  race  has  had  to 
pay  with  its  blood  at  every  step.  It  has  had 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  63 

to  buy  its  experience.  The  thing  which  has 
kept  up  the  necessity  of  more  migration  or 
more  power  over  Nature  has  been  increase  of 
population.  Where  population  has  become 
chronically  excessive,  and  where  the  popula- 
tion has  succumbed  and  sunk,  instead  of  devel- 
oping energy  enough  for  a  new  advance,  there 
races  have  degenerated  and  settled  into  perma- 
nent barbarism.  They  have  lost  the  power 
to  rise  again,  and  have  made  no  inventions. 
Where  life  has  been  so  easy  and  ample  that 
it  cost  no  effort,  few  improvements  have  been 
made.  It  is  in  the  middle  range,  with  enough 
social  pressure  to  make  energy  needful,  and 
not  enough  social  pressure  to  produce  despair, 
that  the  most  progress  has  been  made. 

At  first  all  labor  was  forced.  Men  forced 
it  on  women,  who  were  drudges  and  slaves. 
Men  reserved  for  themselves  only  the  work 
of  hunting  or  war.  Strange  and  often  horri- 
ble shadows  of  all  the  old  primitive  barbarism 
are  now  to  be  found  in  the  slums  of  great  cit- 
ies, and  in  the  lowest  groups  of  men,  in  the 
midst  of  civilized  nations.  Men  impose  la- 
bor on  women  in  some  such  groups  to-day. 
Through  various  grades  of  slavery,  serfdom, 
villainage,  and  through  various  organizations 


64  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

of  castes  and  guilds,  tlie  industrial  organiza- 
tion lias  been  modified  and  developed  up  to 
the  modern  system.  Some  men  have  been 
found  to  denounce  and  deride  the  modern 
system — what  they  call  the  capitalist  system. 
V^  (Thg_  modern  system  is  based_on  liberty,  on 
contract,  and  on  private  property J  It  has 
been  reached  through  a  gradual  emancipation 
of  the  mass  of  mankind  from  old  bonds  both 
to  Nature  and  to  their  fellow-men.  Village 
communities,  which  excite  the  romantic  ad- 
miration of  some  writers,  were  fit  only  for 
a  most  elementary  and  unorganized  society. 
/I'hey  were  fit  neitherjo  cope  with  the  natu- 

\    ral  difficulties  of  winning  much  food  from  lit- 

\  tie  land,  nor  to  cope  with  the  malice  of  men. 
Hence  they~perished.  In  the  modern  society 
the  organization  of  labor  is  high.  Some  are 
land-owners  and  agriculturists,  some  are  trans- 
porters, bankers,  merchants,  teachers;  some 
advance  the  product  by  manufacture.  It  is  a 

Xsystem  ofjivision  of  functions,  which  is  being 
<T     refined  all  the  time  by  subdivision  of  trade 

\  a^4j?ccugation,  and  by  the  differentiaS^~of 
new  trades. 

The  ties  by  which  all  are  held  together  are 
i  those  of  free  co-operation  and  contract.    If  we 


OWE   TO   EAC£   OTHEK.  65 

look  back  for  comparison  to  anything  of  which 
human  history  gives  us  a  type  or  experiment, 
we  see  that  the  modern  free  system  of  industry 
offersjo^every  living  human  being  chances  .of 
happiness  indescribably  in  excess  of  what  for- 
mer ggngrations  have  possessed.  _  It  offers  no 
such  guarantees  as  were  once  possessed  by 
some,  that  they  should  in  no  case  suffer.  We 
have  an  instance  right  at  hand.  The  negroes, 
once  slaves  in  the  United  States,  used  to  be 
assured  care,  medicine,  and  support ;  but  they 
spent  their  efforts,  and  other  men  took  the 
products.  They  have  been  set  free.  That 
means  only  just  this :  they  now  work  and  hold 
their  own  products,  and  are  assured  of  nothing 
but  what  they  earn.  In  escaping  from  sub- 
jection they  have  lost  claims.  Care,  medicine, 
and  support  they  get,  if  they  earn  it.  Will 
any  one  say  that  the  black  men  have  not 
gained?  Will  any  one  deny  that  individual 
black  men  may  seem  worse  off  ?  Will  any 
one  allow  such  observations  to  blind  him  to  the 
true  significance  of  the  change?  If  any  one 
thinks  that  there  are  or  ought  to  be  somewhere 
in  society  guarantees  that  no  man  shall  suffer 
hardship,  let  him  understand  that  there  can 
be  no  such  guarantees,  unless  other  men  give 
5 


66  WHAT    SOCIAL   CLASSES 

them — that  is,  unless  we  go  back  to  slavery, 
and  make  one  man's  effort  conduce  to  an- 
other man's  welfare.  Of  course,  if  a  specu^ 
lator  breaks  loose  from  science  and  history, 
and  plans  out  an  ideal  society  in  which  all 
the  conditions  are  to  be  different,  he  is  a  law- 
giver or  prophet^  and  those  may  listen  to  him 
who  have  leisure. 

The  modern  industrial  system  is  a  great  so- 
ial  co-operation.  It  is  automatic  and  instinc- 
tive in  its  operation.  The  adjustments  of  the 
organs  take  place  naturally^  The  parties  are 
held  together  by  impersonal  force  —  supply 
and  demand.  They  may  never  see  each  other; 
they  may  be  separated  by  half  the  circum- 
ference of  the  globe.  Their  co-operation  in 
the  social  effort  is  combined  and  distributed 
again  by  financial  machinery,  and  the  rights 
and  interests  are  measured  and  satisfied  with- 
out any  special  treaty  or  convention  at  all. 
All  this  goes  on  so  smoothly  and  naturally 
that  we  forget  to  notice  it.  We  think  that 
it  costs  nothing — does  itself,  as  it  were.  The 
truth  is,  that  this  great  co-operative  effort 
is  one  of  the  great  products  of  civilization — 
one  of  its  costliest  products  and  highest  re- 
finements, because  here,  more  than  anywhere 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHEK.  67 

else,  intelligence  comes  in,  but  intelligence 
so  clear  and  correct  that  it  does  not  need  ex- 
pression. 

Now,  by  the  great  social  organization  the 
whole  civilized  body  (and  soon  we  shall  say 
the  whole  human  race)  keeps  up  a  combined  1 
assault  on  Nature  for  the  means  of  subsistence. 
Civilized  society  may  be  said  to  be  maintained 
in  an  unnatural  position,  at  an  elevation  above 
the  earth,  or  above  the  natural  state  of  human 
society.  It  can  be  maintained  there  only  by 
an  efficient  organization  of  the  social  effort 
and  by  capital.  At  its  elevation  it  supports 
far  greater  numbers  than  it  could  support  on 
any  lower  stage.  Members  of  the  society  who 
come  into  it  as  it  is  to-day  can  live  only  by 
entering  into  the  organization.  If  numbers 
increase,  the  organization  must  be  perfected, 
and  capitaljmst  increase—  7JL 


Nature.  If  the  society  does  not  keep  up  its 
power,  if  it  lowers  its  organization  or  wastes 
its  capital,  it  falls  back  toward  the  natural 
state  of  barbarism  from  which  it  rose,  and  in 
so  doing  it  must  sacrifice  thousands  of  its  weak- 
est  members.  Hence  human  society  lives  at  a 
constant  strain  forward  and  upward,  and  those 
who  have  most  interest  that  this  strain  be  sue- 


68  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

eessfully  kept  up,  that  the  social  organization 
be  perfected,  and  that  capital  be  increased, 
are  those  at  the  bottom. 

The  notion  of  property  which  prevails 
among  us  to-day  is,  that  a  man  has  a  right 
to  the  thing  which  he  has  made  by  his  labor. 
This  is  a  very  modern  and  highly  civilized 
conception.  Singularly  enough,  it  has  been 
brought  forward  dogmatically  to  prove  that 
property  in  land  is  not  reasonable,  because  man 
did  not  make  land.  A  man  cannot  "  make  "  a 
chattel  or  product  of  any  kind  whatever  with- 
out first  appropriating  land,  so  as  to  get  the 
ore,  wood,  wool,  cotton,  fur,  or  other  raw  ma- 
terial. All  that  men  ever  appropriate  land 
for  is  to  get  out  of  it  the  natural  materials  on 
which  they  exercise  their  industry.  _Appro- 
priation,  therefore,  precedes  labor-production, 
both  historically  and  logically.  Primitive 
races  regarded,  and  often  now  regard,  appro- 
priation as  the  best  title  to  property.  As 
usual,  they  are  logical.  It  is  the  simplest  and 
most  natural  mode  of  thinking  to  regard  a 
thing  as  belonging  to  that  man  who  has,  by 
carrying,  wearing,  or  handling  it,  associated  it 
for  a  certain  time  with  his  person.  I  once 
heard  a  little  boy  of  four  years  say  to  his 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  69 

mother,  "  Why  is  not  this  pencil  mine  now  ? 
It  used  to  be  my  brother's,  but  I  have  been 
using  it  all  day."     He  was  reasoning  with  the 
logic  of  his  barbarian  ancestors.     The  reason 
for  allowing  private  property  in  land  is,  that 
two  men  cannot  eat  the  same  loaf  of  bread. 
If  A  has  taken  a  piece  of  land,  and  is  at  work 
getting  his  loaf  out  of  it,  B  cannot  use  the 
same  land  at  the  same  time  for  the  same  pur- 
pose.    Priority  of  appropriation^  js  the  only^ 
title  of  right  which  can  supersede  the  title  of 
greater  force.     The  reason  why  man  is  notl 
altogether  a  brute  is,  because  he  has  learned  tot 
accumulate  capital,  to  use  capital,  to  advance  1 
to  a  higher  organization  of  society,  to  develop  1 
a  completer  co-operation,  and  so  to  win  great-  \ 
er  and  greater  control  over  Nature.  4 

It  is  a  great  delusion  to  look  about  us 
and  select  those  men  who  occupy  the  most 
advanced  position  in  respect  to  worldly  cir- 
cumstances as  the  standard  to  which  we 
think  that  all  might  be  and  ought  to  be 
brought.  All_the  complaints  and  criticising 
about  the  ine^uj^tY.o£-meB-^pfily4o>  mequali*, 
ties  in  property,  luxury,  and  creature  com- 
forts, not  to  knowledge,  virtue,  or  even  phys- 
ical beauty  and  strength.  But  it  is  plainly 


70  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

impossible  that  we  should  all  attain  to  equali- 
ty on  the  level  of  the  best  of  us.  The  history 
of  civilization  shows  us  that  the  human  race 
has  by  no  means  marched  on  in  a  solid  and 
even  phalanx.  It  has  had  its  advance-guard, 
its  rear-guard,  and  its  stragglers.  It  presents 
us  the  same  picture  to-day;  for  it  embraces 
every  grade,  from  the  most  civilized  nations 
down  to  the  lowest  surviving  types  of  barba- 
rians. Furthermore,  if  we  analyze  the  socie- 
ty of  the  most  civilized  State,  especially  in 
one  of  the  great  cities  where  the  highest  tri- 
umphs of  culture  are  presented,  we  find  sur- 
vivals of  every  form  of  barbarism  and  lower 
civilization.  Hence,  those  who  to-day  enjoy 
the  most  complete  emancipation  from  the 
hardships  of  human  life,  and  the  greatest 
command  over  the  conditions  of  existence, 
simply  show  us  the  best  that  man  has  yet 
been  able  to  do.  Can  we  all  reach  that  stand- 
ard by  wishing  for  it?  Can  we  all  vote  it 
to  each  other?  If  we  pull  down  those  who 
are  most  fortunate  and  successful,  shall  we 
not  by  that  very  act  defeat  our  own  object  ? 
Those  who  are  trying  to  reason  out  any  issue 
from  this  tangle  of  fake  notions  of  society 
and  of  history  are  only  involving  themselves 


OWE   TO    EACH   OTHEE.  7l 

in  hopeless  absurdities  and  contradictions.  If 
any  man  is  not  in  the  first  rank  who  might 
get  there,  let  him  put  forth  new  energy  and 
take  his  place.  If  any  man  is  not  in  the  front 
rank,  although  jig  has  done  his  best?  how  can 
he  be  advanced  at  all  ?  Certainly  in  no  waj 
save t  by  pushing^  dovyiL^any.  one 
forced  to  contribute JA 

^'*    IU    I,           .  L|       I   .  II'" 

It  is  often  said  that  the  mass  of  mankind 
are  yet  buried  in  poverty,  ignorance,  and  brut- 
ishness.  It  would  be  a  correct  statement  of 
the  facts  intended,  from  an  historical  and  so- 
ciological point  of  view,  to  say,  Only  a  small 
fraction  of  the  human  race  have  as  yet,  by 
thousands  of  years  of  struggle,  been  partially 
emancipated  from  poverty,  ignorance,  and 
brutishness.  When  once  this  simple  correc- 
tion is  made  in  the  general  point  of  view,  we 
gain  most  important  corollaries  for  all  the 
subordinate  questions  about  the  relations  of 
races,  nations,  and  classes. 


72  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


V. 

THAT  WE  MUST  HAVE  FEW  MEN,  IF  WE 
WANT'  STRONG  MEN. 

IN  our  modern  revolt  against  the  mediaeval 
notions  of  hereditary  honor  and  hereditary 
shame  we  have  gone  too  far,  for  we  have  lost 
the  appreciation  of  the  true  dependence  of 
children  on  parents.  We  have  a  glib  phrase 
about  "the  accident  of  birth,"  but  it  would 
puzzle  anybody  to  tell  what  it  means.  If  A 
takes  B  to  wife,  it  is  not  an  accident  that  he 
took  B  rather  than^C,  D,  or  any  other  woman ; 
and  if  A  and  B  have  a  child,  X,  that  child's 
ties  to  ancestry  and  posterity,  and  his  relations 
to  the  human  race,  into  which  he  has  been 
born  through  A  and  B,  are  in  no  sense  acci- 
dental. The  child's  interest  in  the  question 
whether  A  should  have  married  B  or  C  is  as 
material  as  anything  one  can  conceive  of,  and 
the  fortune  which  made  X  the  son  of  A,  and 
not  of  another  man,  is  the  most  material  fact 
in  his  destiny.  If  these  things  were  better 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  73 

understood  public  opinion  about  the  ethics  of 
marriage  and  parentage  would  undergo  a  most 
salutary  change.  In  following  the  modern 
tendency  of  opinion  we  have  Jost  sight  of  the 

s?  and  our  legislar 


tion  has  thrown  upp^  some  parents  the  re- 
sponsibility, not  only  of  their  own  children, 
but  of  _  jthose.,QjLQth£rs. 

The  relation  of  parents  and  children  is  the 
only  case  of  sacrifice  in  Nature.  Elsewhere 
equivalence  of  exchange  prevails  rigorously. 
The  parents,  however,  hand  down  to  their 
children  the  return  for  all  which  they  had 
themselves  inherited  from  their  ancestors. 
They  ought  to  hand  down  the  inheritance 
with  increase.  It  is  by  this  relation  that  the 
human  race  keeps  up  a  constantly  advancing  j 
contest  with  Nature.  The  penalty  of  ceasing  ^ 
an  aggressive  behavior  toward  the  hardships 
of  life  on  the  part  of  mankind  is,  that  we  go 
backward.  We  cannot  stand  still.  Now,  pa- 
rental affection  constitutes  the  personal  motive 
which  drives  every  man  in  his  place  to  an 
aggressive  and  conquering  policy  toward  the 
limiting  conditions  of  human  life.  Affection 
for  wife  and  children  is  also  the  greatest  mo- 
tive to  social  ambition  and  personal  self  -re- 


74:  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

spect — that  is,  to  what  is  technically  called  a 
"  high  standard  of  living." 

Some  people  are  greatly  shocked  to  read  of 
what  is  called  Malthusianism,  when  they  read 
it  in  a  book,  who  would  be  greatly  ashamed 
of  themselves  if  they  did  not  practise  Malthu- 
sianism  in  their  own  affairs.  Among  respect- 
able people  a  man  who  took  upon  himself  the 
cares  and  expenses  of  a  family  before  he  had 
secured  a  regular  trade  or  profession,  or  had 
accumulated  some  capital,  and  who  allowed 
his  wife  to  lose  caste,  and  his  children  to  be 
dirty,  ragged,  and  neglected,  would  be  severe- 
ly blamed  by  the  public  opinion  of  the  com- 
munity. T^^t^n^rd^fjira^^^ch  a  man^ 
makes  for  himself  and  his  family,  if  he  means 
to  earn  it,  and  does  not  formulate  it  as  a  de- 
mand which  he  means  to  make  on  his  fellow- 
men,  is  a  gauge  of  his  self-respect ;  and  a  high 
standard  ofliving  is  the  moral  limit  which  an 
intelligent  body  of  men  sets  for  itself  far  in- 
side of  the  natural  limits  of  the  sustaining 
power  of  the  land,  which  latter  limit  is  set  by 
starvation,  pestilence,  and  war.  But  a  high' 
standard  of  living jrestrains  population;  that" 
is,  if  we  hold  up  to  the  higher  standard  of 
men,  we  must  have  fewer  of  them. 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER. 


75 


Taking  men  as  they  have  been  and  are,  they 
are  subjects  of  passion,  emotion,  and  instinct,  i 
Only  the  elite  of  the  race  has  yet  been  raised  L 
to  the  point  where  reason  and  conscience  can  j 
even  curb  the  lower  motive  forces.^  For  the  ' 
mass  of  mankind,  therefore,  the  price  of  bet--: 
ter  things  is  too  severe,  for  that  price  can  be/X 
~suriiirrfed  up  in  one  wordr^s^jLdnTi.trol \   - Th r 
consequence  is,  that  for  all  but  a  few  of  us  the 
limit  of  attainment  in  life  in  the  best  case  is 
to  live  out  our  term,  to  pay  our  debts,  to  place 
three  or  four  children  in  a  position  to  sup- 
port themselves  in  a  position  as  good  as  the 
father's  was,  and  there  to  make  the  account 
balance. 

Since  we  must  all  live,  in  the  civilized  or- 
ganization of  society,  on  the  existing  capital ; 
and  since  those  who  have  only  come  out  ef  en 
have  not  accumulated  any  of  the  capital,  have 
no  claim  to  own  it,  and  cannot  leave  it  to 
their  children ;  and  since  those  who  own  land 
have  parted  with  their  capital  for  it,  which 
capital  has  passed  back  through  other  hands 
into  industrial  employment,  how  is  a  man 
who  has  inherited  neither  land  nor  capital  to 
secureja  Jiving  ?  He  must  give  his  produc- 
tive energy  to  apply  capital  to  land  for  the* 


76  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

farther  production  of  wealth,  and  he  must  se- 
cure a  share  in  the  existing  capital  by  a  con- 
tract relation  to  those  who  own  it. 

Undoubtedly  the  man  who  possesses  capital 
has  a  great  advantage  over  the  man  who  has 
no  capital,  in  all  the  struggle  for  existence. 
Think  of  two  men  who  want  to  lift  a  weight, 
one  of  whom  has  a  lever,  and  the  other  must 
apply  his  hands  directly  ;  think  of  two  men 
tilling  the  soil,  one  of  whom  uses  his  hands 
or  a  stick,  while  the  other  has  a  horse  and  a 
plough;  think  of  two  men  in  conflict  with 
a  wild  animal,  one  of  whom  has  only  a  stick 
or  a  stone,  while  the  other  has  a  repeating 
rifle;  think  of  two  men  who  are  sick,  one  of 
whom  can  travel,  command  medical  skill,  get 
space,  light,  air,  and  water,  while  the  other 
lacks  all  these  things.  This  does  not  mean 
that  one  man  has  an  advantage  against  the 
other,  but  that,  when  they  are  rivals  in  the 
effort  to  get  the  means  of  subsistence  from 
Nature,  the  one  who  has  capital  has  immeas- 
urable advantages  over  the  other.  If  it  were 
not  so  capital  would  not  be  formed.  '^Capital 

\/ j  is  only  formed  by  self-deniajjand  if  the  pos- 
I  session  of  it  did  not  secure  advantages  and 

V  I  superiorities  of  a  high  order  men  would  never 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  77 

submit  to  what  is  necessary  to  get  it.  The 
first  accumulation  costs  by  far  the  most,  and 
the  rate  of  increase  by  profits  at  first  seems 
pitiful.  Among  the  metaphors  which  par- 
tially illustrate  capital  —  all  of  which,  however, 
are  imperfect  and  inadequate  —  the 


useful  to  show  some  facts  about  capital.  Its 
first  accumulation  is  slow,  but  as  it  proceeds 
the  accumulation  becomes  rapid  in  a  high  ra- 
tio, and  the  element  of  self-denial  declines. 
This  fact,  also,  is  favorable  to  the  accumula- 
tion of  capital,  for  if  the  self-denial  continued 
to  be  as  great  per  unit  when  the  accumulation 
had  become  great,  there  would  speedily  come 
a  point  at  which  farther  accumulation  would 
not  pay.  The  man  who  has  capital  has_ 
cm&L  his,,  tflture,  WQJI  leisure  which  he 
employ  in  winning  secondary  objects  of  ne 
cessity  and  advantage,  and  emancipated  him- 
self from  those  things  in  life  which  are  grods 
and  belittling.  Tjie  possession  of  capital  itj. 
an  indispensable  prpnrapiqifo  of  ed-; 


ncational,  scientific,  and  moral  goods.  This  is1 
not  saying  that  a  man  in  the  narrowest  cir- 
cumstances may  not  be  a  good  man.  It  is 
saying  that  the  extension  and  elevation  of  all 
the  moral  and  metaphysical  interests  of  the 


78  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

race  are  conditionedj>a  that  extension  of  civ- 
ilization of  which  capital  is  tl^e  prerequisite, 
a53~?Eat  he  who  has  capital  can  participate  in 
and  move  along  with  the  highest  develop- 
ments of  his  time.  Hence  it  appears  that 
the  man  who  has  his  self-denial  before  him, 
however  good  may  be  his  intention,  cannot 
be  as  the  man  who  has  his  self-denial  behind 
him.  Some  seem  to  think  that  this  is  very 
unjust,  but  they  get  their  notions  of  justice 
from  some  occult  source  of  inspiration,  not 
from  observing  the  facts  of  this  world  as  it 
has  been  made  and  exists. 

t  Jhejnaxim,  or  injunction,  to  which  a  study 
of  capital  leads  us  ig1jGet^ca£ital.  In  a  com- 
munity where  the  standard  of  living  is  high, 
and  the  conditions  of  production  are  favora- 
ble, there  is  a  wide  margin  within  which  an 
individual  may  practise  self-denial  and  win 
capital  without  suffering,  if  he  has  not  the 
I  charge  of  a  family.  That  it  requires  energy, 
I  courage,  perseverance,  and  prudence  is  not  to 
jbe  denied.  Any  one  who  believes  that  any 
good  thing  on  this  earth  can  be  got  without 
those  virtues  may  believe  in  the  philosopher's 
stone  or  the  fountain  of  youth.  If  there  were 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  79 

any  Utopia  its   inhabitants   would   certainly 
be  very  insipid  and  characterless. 

Those  who  have  neither  capital  nor  land  H? 
unquestionably  have   a  cjoser   class   intfir^gt^K  fc  &ij~~2 
than  landlords  or  capitalists.    If  one  of  those    " 
who  are  in  either  of  the  latter  classes  is  a 
spendthrift  he  loses  his  advantage.     If  the 
n on  -  capitalists  increase  their  numbers,  they     7 
surrender  themselves  into  the  hands  of  the 
landlords  and  capitalists.     They  compete  with 
each  other  for  food  until  they  run  up  the  rent 
of  land,  and  they  compete  with  each  other  for 
wages  until  they  give  the  capitalist  a  great 
amount    of  productive   energy  for   a   given 
amount  of  capital.     If   some   of  them   are 
economical  and  prudent  in  the  midst  of  a  class 
which  saves  nothing  and  marries  early,  the 
f e^Y  prudent  suffer  for  the  folly  of  the  rest, 
since  they  can  only  get  current  rates  of  wflgp-g },  ^ 
and  if  these  are  low  the  margin  out  of  which 
to  make  savings  by  special  personal  effort  is 
narrow.     No  instance  has  yet  been  seen  of  a 
society  composed  of  a  class  of  great  capitalists 
and  a  class  of  laborers  who  had  fallen  into  a 
caste   of  permanent   drudges.     Probably  no 
such  thing  is  possible  so  long  as  landlords  es- 
pecially remain  as  a  third  class,  and  so  long 


ii 


80  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

as  society  continues  to  develop  strong  classes 
of  merchants,  financiers,  professional  men,  and 
other  classes.  If  it  were  conceivable  that 
non-capitalist  laborers  should  give  up  strug- 
gling to  become  capitalists,  should  give  way 
to  vulgar  enjoyments  and  passions,  should 
recklessly  increase  their  numbers,  and  should 
become  a  permanent  caste,  they  might  with 
some  justice  be  called  proletarians.  The  name 
has  been  adopted  by  some  professed  labor 
leaders,  but  it  really  should  be  considered  in- 
sulting. If  there  were  such  a  proletariat  it 
would  be  hopelessly  in  the  hands  of  a  body 
of  plutocratic  capitalists,  and  a  society  so  or- 
ganized would,  no  doubt,  be  far  worse  than  a 
society  composed  only  of  nobles  and  serfs, 
which  is  the  worst  society  the  world  has  seen 
in  modern  times. 

At  every  turn,  therefore,  it  appears  that  the 
number  of  men  and  the  quality  of  men  limit 
each  other,  and  that  the  question  whether  we 
shall  have  more  men  or  better  men  is  of  most 
importance  to  the  class  which  has  neither 
land  nor  capital. 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  81 


VI. 

THAT  HE  WHO  WOULD  BE  WELL  TAKEN  CARE 
OF  MUST  TAKE  CARE  OF  HIMSELF. 

THE  discussion  of  "the  relations  of  labor 
and  capital "  has  not  hitherto  been  very  fruit- 
ful. It  has  been  confused  by  ambiguous  defi- 
nitions, and  it  has  been  based  upon  assump- 
tions about  the  rights  and  duties  of  social 
classes  which  are,  to  say  the  least,  open  to 
serious  question  as  regards  their  truth  and 
justice.  If,  then,  we  correct  and  limit  the 
definitions,  and  if  we  test  the  assumptions, 
we  shall  find  out  whether  there  is  anything 
to  discuss  about  the  relations  of  "labor  and 
capital,"  and,  if  anything,  what  it  is. 

Let  us  first  examine  the  terms. 

1.  Labor  means  properly,  toil,  irksome  ex- 
ertion, expenditure  of  productive  energy. 

2.  Tiie__term  is  used,  secondly,  by  a  figure* 
of  speech,  and  in  a  collective  sense,  ia_de.sig- 
n&le.  fhn  J)Qfjy-^rf  jgfggg77*  who,  having  neither 
capital  nor  land,  come  into  the  industrial  or- 
ganization offering  productive  services  in  ex- 


82  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

1  Change  for  means  of  subsistence.  These  per- 
(sons  are  united  by  community  of_interest  into 
a  group,  or  class,  or  interest,  and,  when  inter- 
ests come  to  be  adjusted,  the  interests  of  this 
group  will  undoubtedly  be  limited  by  those  of 
other  groups. 

3.  The  term  labor  is  used,  thirdly,  in  a  more 
restricte37very  popular  and  current,  but  very 
ill-defined,  way,  tojdesgnate  a  limited  sub- 
graup_^mong  those  who  live  by  contributing 
productive  efforts  to  the  work  of  society. 
Every  one  is  aTaBor^"^oTteTffoTar^person  of 
leisure.  Public  men,  or  other  workers,  if  any, 
who  labor  but  receive  no  pay,  might  be  exclud- 
ed from  the  category,  and  we  should  immedi- 
ately pass,  by  such  a  restriction,  from  a  broad 
and  philosophical  to  a  technical  definition  of 
the  labor  class.  B\jt  merchants,  bankers  jro- 
fessional  men,  and  all  whose  labor  is,  to  an  im- 
..gortaSjLdegree,  mental  as  well  as  manuaL  are 
is-  third  use  of  the  termjab,or. 


The  result  is,  that  the  word  is  used,  in  a  sense 
at  once  loosely  popular  and  strictly  technical, 
to  designate  a  group  of  laborers  who  separate 
their  interests  from  those  of  other  laborers. 
Whether  farmers  are  included  under  "  labor  " 
in  this  third  sense  or  not  I  have  not  been  able 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  83 

to  determine.  It  seems  that  they  are  or  are 
not,  as  the  interest  of  the  disputants  may  re- 
quire. 

1.  CafftaLia^any  product  of  labor  which  is 
used  to  assist  production. 

2.  'JMs "term  "also  is  used,  by  a  figure  of 
speech,  and  in  a  collective  sense,  for  the  per- 

possess  capital,  and  who  come  into 


the  industrial  organization  to  get  their  living 

by  using  capital  for  profit.     To  do  this  they 

need  to  exchange  capital  for  productive  ser-  **c***je«| 

vices.     These  persons  constitutcTlin  interest,  't*  A!*c^*f 

v«,^|  X  I  ^,t»af  1/11*^1  / 

group,  or  class,  although Jhey  are  joot jmite^  *  *.*,//  prcju  i 
by  any  such  community  of  interest  as  fabor^^rj 
ers,  and,  in  the  adjustment  of  interests,  the 
interest  of  the  owners  of  capital  must  be  lim- 
ited by  the  interests  of  other  groups. 

3.  Capital,  however,  is  also  used  in  a  vague 
and  popular  sense  which  it  is  hard  to  define. 
In  general  it  is  used,  in  this  sense,  to  mean 
employers  of  laborers,  but  it  seems  to  be  re- 
stricted to  those  who  are  employers  on  a  large 
scale.  It  does  not  seem  to  include  those  who 
employ  only  domestic  servants.  Those  also 
are  excluded  who  own  capital  and  lend  it,  but 
do  not  directly  employ  people  to  use  it. 

It  is  evident  that  if  we  take  for  discussion 


84  "WHAT    SOCIAL   CLASSES 

"  capital  and  labor,"  if  each  of  the  terms  has 
three  definitions,  and  if  one  definition  of  each 
is  loose  and  doubtful,  we  have  everything  pre- 
pared for  a  discussion  which  shall  be  inter- 
minable and  fruitless,  which  shall  offer  every 
attraction  to  undisciplined  thinkers,  and  repel 
everybody  else. 

The  real  collision  of  interest,  which  is  the 
centre  of  the  dispute,  is  that  of  employers  and 
employed ;  and  the  first  condition  of  success- 
ful study  of  the  question,  or  of  successful  in- 
vestigation to  see  if  there  is  any  question,  is 
to  throw  aside  the  technical  economic  terms, 
and  to  look  at  the  subject  in  its  true  meaning, 
expressed  in  untechnical  language.  We  will 
Use  the  terms  "  capital "  and  "  labor  "  only  in 
their  strict  economic  significance,  viz.,  the  first 
definition  given  above  under  each  term,  and 
ive  will  use  the  terms  "  laborers  "  and  "  capi- 
talists "  when  we  mean  the  persons  described 

in  the  second  definition  under  each  term. 

i 

It  is  a  common  assertion  that  the  interests 
of  employers  and  pmployed  are  identical^  that 
they  are  partners  in  an  enterprise,  etc.  These 
sayings  spring  from  a  disposition,  which  may 
often  be  noticed,  to  find  consoling  and  encour- 
aging observations  in  the  facts  of  sociology, 


OWE    TO    EACH    OTHER.  85 

and  to  refute,  if  possible,  any  unpleasant  obser- 
vations. If  we  try  to  learn  what  is  true,  we 
stall  both  do  what  is  alone  right,  and  we  shall 
do  the  best  for  ourselves  in  the  end.  The  in- 
terests of  employers  and  employed  as  parties 
to  a  contract  are  antagonistic  in  certain  re- 
spects and  united  in  others,  as  is  the  case 
wherever  supply  and  demand  operate.  If 
John  gives  cloth  to  James  in  exchange  for 
wrheat,  John's  interest  is  that  cloth  be  good 
and  attractive  but  not  plentiful,  but  that  wheat 
be  good  and  plentiful ;  James's  interest  is  that 
wheat  be  good  and  attractive  but  not  plenti- 
ful, but  that  cloth  be  good  and  plentiful.  _A11 
menjbay e  a. cQmmQn.intece^hjL^all  things  be 
good,  and^ jhat^all^hings  but  the  one  which 

Q2^_^24fl^§J^~jl^M£sL  "ffiie  |§^^Yer 
is  interested  that  capital  be  good  but  rare^  and 
productive  energy~good  anT plentiful ;  thejin- 
ploye  is  interested  that  f.qpit-Q-1  "h^  goorl  wfi 
rj^Sit^fuh  but  that  productive  energy  be  good 
2nd  rare.  When  one  man  alone  can  do  a  ser- 
vice, and  he  can  do  it  very  well,  he  represents 
the  laborer's  ideal.  laEk^aay  that  employers 
and  employed  arc  partners  in  an  enterprise?  jfc 
only  a  delusive  figure  of  speech.  It  is  plainly 
based  on  no  facts  in  the  industrial  system. 


86  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

I  3£mployers  and  employed  make  contracts  on 
the  best  terms  which  they  can  agree  upon,  like 
buyers  and  sellers,  renters  and  hirers,  borrew- 

iers  and  lenders/^Their  relations  are,  therefore, 
\ 
controlled  by  tne  universal  law  of  supplr  and 

demandT]  The  enmlojer  assumes  the  direction 
of  the  business,  and  t^fees_all  the  risk,  for  the 
capital  must  be  consumed  in  the  industrial 
process,  and  whether  it  will  be  found  again  in 
the^groduct  or  not  depends  upon  the  good 
judgment  and  foresight  with  which  the  capi- 
tal and  labor  have  been  applied.  J0nder  the 
^ages^sy^temi^e  employer  and^^he_^naploye 
contract  for  time.  The  employe  fulfils  the 
contracFlf^ie  obeys  orders  during  the  time, 
and  treats  the  capital  as  he  is  told  to  treat  it. 
Hence  he  is  ii£eJTQin_aU^^^ 
and  speculation.  That  this  is  the  most  advan- 
Tageous"arrangement  for  him,  on  the  whole 
and  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  is  very  cer- 
tain. Salaried  men  and  wage-receivers  are  in 
precisely  the  same  circumstances,  except  that 
the  former,  by  custom  and  usage,  are  those 
who  have  special  skill  or  training,  which  is 
almost  always  an  investment  of  capital,  and 
which  narrows  the  range  of  competition  in 
their  case.  Physicians,  lawyers,  arid  others 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  87 

paid  by  fees  are  workers  by  the  piece.  To 
the  capital  in  existence  all  must  come  for 
their  subsistence  and  their  tools. 

Association  is  the  lowest  and  simplest  mode 
of  attaining  accord  and  concord  between  men. 
It  is  now  the  mode  best  suited  to  the  condi- 
tion and  chances  of  employes.  Employers 
formerly  made  use  of  guilds  to  secure  com- 
mon action  for  a  common  interest.  They 
have  given  up  this  mode  of  union  because  it 
has  been  superseded  by  better  ones.  Corre- 
spondence, travel,  newspapers,  circulars,  and 
telegrams  bring  to  employers  and  capitalists 
the  information  which  they  need  for  the  de- 
fence of  their  interests,  ^he  combination  be- 
i^yeen  them  js^automatic  and  instinctive.  _It^ 
ragnla.tftfl  hy  rule.  It  is  all 


the  stronger  on  that  account,  because  intelli- 
gent men,  holding  the  same  general  maxims 
of  policy,  and  obtaining  the  same  information, 
pursue  similar  lines  of  action,  while  retaining 
all  the  ease,  freedom,  and  elasticity  of  personal 
independence. 

At  present  employes  have  not  the  leisure  > 
necessary  for  the  higher  modes  of  communi- 
cation.    Capital  is  also  necessary  to  establish 
the  ties  of  common  action  under  the  higher 


88  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

forms.  Moreover,  there  is,  no  doubt,  an  inci- 
dental disadvantage  connected  with  the  release 
which  the  employe  gets  under  the  wages  sys- 
tem from  all  responsibility  for  the  conduct  of 
the  business.  That  is,  that  employes  do  not 
learn  to  watch  or  study  the  course  of  industry, 
and  do  not  plan  for  their  own  advantage,  as 
other  classes  do.  There  is  an  especial  field  for 
combined  action  in  the  case  of  employes. .  Em- 
ployers are  generally_^eparated  by  jealousy  and 
pride  in  regard  to  all  but  the  most  universal 
class  interest^.  Employes  have  a  much  closer 
^interest  in  each  other's  wisdom.  Competition 
alisis'for  profits  ^redounds^to  the  bene- 
fit of  laborers.  Competition  of  laborers  for 
subsistence  redounds  to  the  benefit  of  capital- 
ists. It  is  utterly  futile  to  plan  and  scheme 
so  that  either  party  can  make  a  "  corner "  on 
the  other.  If  employers  withdraw  capital 
from  employment  in  an  attempt  to  lower 
wages,  they  lose  profits.  If  employes  with- 
draw from  competition  in  order  to  raise  wages, 
they  starve  to  death. 
thetwo  things  which  lea^ 
Employers  can,  however,  if  they  have  fore- 
sight of  the  movements  of  industry  and  com- 
merce, and  if  they  make  skilful  use  of  credit, 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  89 

win  exceptional  profits  for  a  limited  period. 
One  great  means  of  exceptional  profit  lies  in 
the  very  fact  that  the  employes  have  not  exer- 
cised the  same  foresight,  but  have  plodded 
along  and  waited  for  the  slow  and  successive 
action  of  the  industrial  system  through  suc- 
cessive periods  of  production,  while  the  em- 
ployer has  anticipated  and  synchronized  sever- 
al successive  steps.  ~No  bargain  is  fairly  made 
if  one  of  the  parties  to  it  fails  to  maintain  his 
interest.  If  one  party  to  a  contract  is  well  in- 
formed and  the  other  ill  informed,  the  former 
is  sure  to  win  an  advantage.  No  doctrine  that 
a  true  adjustment  of  interest  follows  from  the 
free  play  of  interests  can  be  construed  to  mean 
that  an  interest  which  is  neglected  will  get  its 
rights. 

The  employes  have  no  means  of  informa- 
tion which  is  as  good  and  legitimate  as  as- 
sociation, and  it  is  fair  and  necessary  that 
their  action  should  be  united  on  behalf  of 
their  interests.  Thoy^  are  not  in  a  position 
ior^the  unrestricted  ' 


in  regard_Jj)_many  of  their  interests. 
Unquestionably  the  better  ones  lose  by  this, 
and  the  development  of  individualism  is  to 
be  looked  forward  to  and  hoped  for  as  a  great 


90  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

gain.  In  the  mean  timejfche  labor  market,  in 
w]iich  wages  are  fixed,  ftamjot  re^ 
justments  unless  the^  interest^^of  .the 
jsMFairly  defended,  and ..thaL-Cannot?_ perhaps^ 
^t_be  done^  without  associations  of  laborers. 
No  newspapers  yet  report  the  labor  market. 
If  they  give  any  notices  of  it — of  its  rise  and 
fall,  of  its  variations  in  different  districts  and 
in  different  trades — such  notices  are  always 
made  for  the  interest  of  the  employers.  Re- 
41§&il^  both  locally "  and 

trade-wise  (so  far  as  the  latter  is  possible)^ 
a  legitiiHate-and-^seful-mode  of -rising-  wages. 
ijj&dtiniate..  attempt  to  raise  wages  by 
limiting  the  number  of  apprenfaflfi  iff  thfi 
great  abuse  of  trades-nnions^  I  shall  discuss 
that  in  the  ninth  chapter. 

It  appears  that  the  English  trades  were 
forced  to  contend,  during  the  first  half  of  this 
century,  for  the  wages  which  the  market  real- 
ly wouM  give  them,  but  which,  under  the  old 
traditions  and  restrictions  which  remained, 
they  could  not  get  without  a  positive  struggle. 
They  formed  the  opinion  that  a  strike  could 
raise  wages.  They  were  educated  so  to  think 
by  the  success  which  they  had  won  in  certain 
attempts.  It  appears  to  have  become  a  tra- 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEK.  91 

ditional  opinion,  in  which  no  account  is  taken 
of  the  state  of  the  labor  market.  It  would  be 
hard  to  find  a  case  of  any  strike  within  thirty 
or  forty  years,  either  in  England  or  the  United 
States,  which  has  paid.  JLf_a  strike,  occurs,  jt 
certainly  wastes  capital  and  hinders-  produe  — 
•"-tionT  It  must,  therefore,  lower  wages  subse- 
quently below  what  they  would  have  been  if 
there  had  been  no  strike.  If  a  strike  suc- 
ceeds, the  question  arises  whether  an  advance 
of  wages  as  great  or  greater  wrould  not  have 
occurred  within  a  limited  period  without  a 
strike. 
Nevertheless,  a. 


It  is  like  war,  for  it  is  war.  All  that 
can  be  said  is  that  those  who  have  recourse  to 
it  at  last  ought  to  understand  that  they  as- 
sume a  great  responsibility,  and  that  they  can 
only  be  justified  by  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  I  cannot  believe  that  a  strike  for  wrages/ 
ever  is  expedient.^j'There  are  other  purposes, 
to  be  mentioned  in  a  moment,  for  which  a 
strike  may  be  expedient  ;  but  a  strike  for  wages  7 
is  a  clear  case  of  a  strife  in  which  ultimate 
success  is  a  complete  test  of  the  justifiability 
of  the  course  of  those  who  made  the  strife. 
If  the  men  win  an  advance,  it  proves  that  they  { 


92  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

I  I  ought  to  have  had  it.  If  they  do  not  win,  it 
[  proves  that  they  were  wrong  to  strike.  If 
they  strike  with  the  market  in  their  favor, 
they  win.  If  they  strike  with  the  market 
against  them,  they  fail.  It  is  in  human  nat- 
ure that  a  man  whose  income  is  increased  is 
happy  and  satisfied,  although,  if  he  demanded 
it,  he  might  perhaps  at  that  very  moment  get 
more.  A  man  whose  income  is  lessened  is 
displeased  and  irritated,  and  he  is  more  likely 
to  strike  then,  when  it  may  be  in  vain.  Strikes 
in  industry  are  not  nearly  so  peculiar  a  phe- 
nomenon as  they  are  often  thought  to  be. 
Buyers  strike  when  they  refuse  to  buy  com- 
modities of  which  the  price  has  risen.  Either 
the  price  remains  high,  and  they  permanently 
learn  to  do  without  the  commodity,  or  the 
price  is  lowered,  and  they  buy  again.  Ten- 
ants strike  when  house-rents  rise  too  high  for 
them.  They  seek  smaller  houses  or  parts  of 
houses  until  there  is  a  complete  re-adjustment. 
Borrowers  strike  when  the  rates  for  capital 
are  so  high  that  they  cannot  employ  it  to  ad- 
vantage and  pay  those  rates.  Laborers  may 
strike  and  emigrate,  or,  in  this  country,  take 
to  the  land.,  This  kind  of  strike  is  a  regular 
application  of  legitimate  means,  and  is  sure 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  93 

to  succeed.  Of  course,  strikes  with  violence 
against  employers  or  other  employes  are  not 
to  be  discussed  at  all. 

.,Xrades-imi£n£,  then,  are  right  and  useful, 
and  it  may  be  that  they  are  necessary.  They 
may  do  much  by  way  of  true  economic 
means  to  raise  wages.  They  are  useful  to 
spread  information,  to  maintain  _  esprit  jfa 
corps^io  elevate  the  public  opinion  of  the 
class.  They  have  been  greatly  abused  in  the 
past.  In  this  country  they  are  in  constant 
danger  of  being  used  by  political  schemers — a 
fact  which  does  more  than  anything  else  to 
disparage  them  in  the  eyes  of  the  best  work- 
men.  The  economic  notions  most  in  favor  in 
the  trades-unions  are  erroneous,  although  not 
more  so  than  those  which  find  favor  in  the 
counting-room.  A  man  who  believes  that  ho 
can  raise  wages  by  doing  bad  work,  wasting 
time,  allowing  material  to  be  wasted,  and  giving 
generally  the  least  possible  service  in  the  al- 
lotted time,  is  not  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
man  wTho  says  that  wages  can  be  raised  by 
putting  protective  taxes  on  all  clothing,  furni- 
ture, crockery,  bedding,  books,  fuel,  utensils, 
and  tools.  One  lowers  the  services  given  for 
the  capital,  and  the  other  lowers  the  capital 


94  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

given  for  the  services.  Trades-unionism  in 
the  higher  classes  consists  in  jobbery.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  it  in  the  professions.  I  once 
heard  a  group  of  lawyers  of  high  standing 
sneer  at  an  executor  who  hoped  to  get  a  large 
estate  through  probate  without  allowing  any 
lawyers  to  get  big  fees  out  of  it.  They  all 
approved  of  steps  which  had  been  taken  to 
force  a  contest,  which  steps  had  forced  the 
executor  to  retain  two  or  three  lawyers.  No 
one  of  the  speakers  had  been  retained. 

Trades -unions  need  development,  correc- 
tion, and  perfection.  They  ought,  however, 
to  get  this  from  the  men  themselves.  If  the 
men  do  not  feel  any  need  of  such  institutions, 
the  patronage  of  other  persons  who  come  to 
them  and  give  them  these  institutions  will  do 
harm  and  not  good.  Especially  trades-unions 
ought  to  be  perfected  so  as  to  undertake  a 
great  range  of  important  duties  for  which  we 
now  rely  on  Government  inspection,  which  nev- 
\  er  gives  what  we  need.  The  safety  of  workmen 
from  machinery,  the  ventilation  and  sanitary 
arrangements  required  by  Tacrtories,  the  ^special 
precautions  oT~,certain  processes,  the  hours_pf 
labo£j}£ .women  and  children,  the  schooling  of 
children,  the  limits  of^age^for  employed  chiJ 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  95 

dren,  Sunday  work,  hours  of  labor — these  and 
other  like  matters  ought  to  be  controlled  by 
the  men  themselves  through  their  organiza- 
tions. The  laborers  about  whom  we  are  talk- 
ing are  free  men  in  a  free  state.  (If  they  wan II 
to  be  protected  they  must  protect  themselves.! 
They  ought  to  protect  their  own  women  and 
children.  Their  own  class  opinion  ought  to 
secure  the  education  of  the  children  of  their 
class.  If  an  individual  workman  is  not  bold 
enough  to  protest  against  a  wrong  to  laborers, 
the  agent  of  a  trades-union  might  with  propri- 
ety do  it  on  behalf  of  the  body  of  workmen. 
Here  is  a  great  and  important  need,  and,  h> 
stead  of  applying  suitable  and  adequate  means 
to  supply  it,  we  have  demagogues  declaiming, 
trades -union  officers  resolving,  and  Govern- 
ment inspectors  drawing  salaries,  while  little 
or  nothing  is  done. 

I  have  said  that  trades-unions  are  right  and 
useful,  and,  perhaps,  necessary;  buLtradesjin- 
iQngLj,re,  in  fact,  in  this  country,  an  esfitic  and 
imported  institution,  and  a  great  many  of  their 
rules  and  modes  of  procedure,  having  been  de- 
veloped in  England  to  meet  English  circum- 
stances, are  out  of  place  here.  The  institution 
itself  does  not  flourish  here  as  it  would  if  it 


WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 


were  in  a  thoroughly  congenial  environment. 
It  needs  to  be  supported  by  special  exertion 
and  care.  Two  things  here  work  against  it. 

/   B^gfe^the^  A 

trades-union,  to  be  strong,  needs  to  be  com- 
posed of  men  who  have  grown  up  together, 
who  have  close  personal  acquaintance  and  mut- 
ual confidence,  who  have  been  trained  to  the 
same  code,  and  who  expect  to  live  on  together 
in  the  same  circumstances  and  interests.  In 
this  country,  where  workmen  move  about  fre- 
quently and  with  facility,  the  unions  suffer^  in 
their  harmony  and  stability.  It  was  a  signifi- 
"cant  fact  that  the  unions  declined  during  the 
hard  times.  It  was  only  when  the  men  were 
prosperous  that  they  could  afford  to  keep  up 
the  unions,  as  a  kind  of  social  luxury.  When 
the  time  came  to  use  the  union  it  ceased  to  be. 
;>6econdly,  the  ^mjsric^ii-JKQrkman  real 


&.  such  personal  independence,  and  such  an  inde- 
^  pendent  and  strong  position  in  the  labor  mar- 

•*•—  *    i  _...    M.  ii.     -r-  **      ±  ------  —-•  "*         ""          «•        "      '  .....  "* 

ket^jhatjie  doesjaot  need^the  joaioa.  He  is 
farther  on  the  road  toward  the  point  where  per- 
sonal liberty  supplants  the  associative  principle 
than  any  other  workman.  Hence  the  associa- 
tion is  likely  to  be  a  clog  to  him,  especially  if 
he  is  a  good  laborer,  rather  than  an  assistance. 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  97 

If  it  were  not  for  trie  notion  brought  from 
England,  that  trades-unions  are,  in  some  mys- 
terious way,  beneficial  to  the  workmen — which 
notion  has  now  become  an  article  of  faith — it 
is  very  doubtful  whether  American  workmen 
would  find  that  the  unions  were  of  any  use, 
unless  they  were  converted  into  organizations 
for  accomplishing  the  purposes  enumerated  in 
the  last  paragraph. 

The  fashion  of  the  time  is  to  run  to  Govern- 
ment boards,  commissions,  and  inspectors  to 
set  right  everything  which  is  wrong.  No  ex- 
perience seems  to  damp  the  faith  of  our  pub- 
lic in  these  instrumentalities.  The  English 
Liberals  in  the  middle  of  this  century  seemed 
to  have  full  grasp  of  the  principle  of  liberty, 
and  to  be  fixed  and  established  in  favor  of  non- 
interference. Since  they  have  come  to  power, 
however,  they  have  adopted  the  old  instrumen- 
talities, and  have  greatly  multiplied  them  since 
they  have  had  a  great  number  of  reforms  to 
carry  out.  They  seem  to  think  that  interfer- 
ence is  good  if  only  they  interfere.  In  this 
country  the  party  which  is  "  in  "  always  inter- 
feres, and  the  party  which  is  "  out "  favors 
non-interference.  Tli^ystemjrf  interference 
is  a  complete  failure  of  the  ends  jtjurniTaf, 

~ 


.  / 
/ 


98  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

and  sooner  or  later  it  will  fall  of  its  own  ex- 
{^pense  and  be  swept  away.  The  i\£a.nQtions 
—  one  to  regulate  things  by  a  committee  of 
control,  and  the  other  to  let  thongs  regulate.. 
themselves  by  the  conflict  of  interests  between 
free  men  —  are  diametrically  opposed  ;  and  the 
f  oirmer  is  corrupting  to  free  institutions,  be- 
catise  men_wi^^^.taugkt-ta^expect  Govern- 
ment inspectors  to  come  and  take  care~of  IhauoL 
lose  all  true  education  in  liberty,,  ^  If  we  have 
*eeiPall  wrong  foftKe  last  three  hundred 
years  in  aiming  at  a  fuller  realization  of  indi- 
vidual liberty,  as  a  condition  of  general  and 
widely-diffused  happiness,  then  we  must  turn 
back  to  paternalism,  discipline,  and  authority  ; 
but  tq^have_a  combinatioli  of  liberty  and  de- 
pendence  is  impossible. 

I  have  read  a  great  many  diatribes  within 
the  last  ten  years  against  employers,  and  a 
great  many  declamations  about  the  wrongs  of 
employes.  I  have  never  seen  a  defence  of  the 
employer.  Who  dares  say  that  he  is  not  the 
friend  of  the  poor  man  ?  Who  dares  say  that 
he  is  the  friend  of  the  employer  ?  I  will  try 
to  say  what  I  think  is  true.  There  are  bad, 
harsh,  cross  employers;  there  are  slovenly, 
negligent  workmen;  there  are  just  about  as 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  99 

many  proportionately  of  one  of  these  classes 
as  of  the  other.  The  employs  of  the  United  I 
States — as  a  class,  proper  exceptions  being  un- 
derstood— have  no  advantage  over  their  work- 
men. They  could  not  oppress  them  if  they  ' 
wanted  to  do  so.  The  advantage,  taking  good 
and  bad  times  together,  is  with  the  workmen.  * 
The  employers  wish  the  welfare  of  the  work- 
men in  all  respects,  and  would  give  redress  for 
any  grievance  which  was  brought  to  their  at- 
tention. They  are  considerate  of  the  circum- 
stances and  interests  of  the  laborers.  They 
remember  the  interests  of  the  workmen  when 
driven  to  consider  the  necessity  of  closing  or 
reducing  hours.  They  go  on,  and  take  risk 
and  trouble  on  themselves  in  working  through 
bad  times,  rather  than  close  their  works.  The  ' 
whole  class  of  those-who-have  are  quick  in 
their  sympathy  for  any  form  of  distress  or 
suffering.  They  are  too  quick.  Their  sympa- 
thies need  regulating,  not  stimulating.  They 
are  more  likely  to  give  away  capital  recklessly 
than  to  withhold  it  stingily  when  any  alleged 
case  of  misfortune  is  before  them.  They  re- 
joice to  see  any  man  succeed  in  improving  his 
position.  They  will  aid  him  with  counsel  and 
information  if  he  desires  it,  and  any  man  who 


100  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

needs  and  deserves  help  because  he  is  trying 
to  help  himself  will  be  sure  to  meet  with 
sympathy,  encouragement,  and  assistance  from 
those  who  are  better  off.  If  those  who  are  in 
that  position  are  related  to  him  as  employers 
to  employe,  that  tie  will  be  recognized  as  giv- 
ing him  an  especial  claim. 


I 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHEK.  101 


VII 

CONCERNING  SOME  OLD  FOES  UNDER  NEW 
FACES. 


THE  history  of  the  human  race  is  -c 
story  of  attempts  by  certain  persons  ana  class- 
es to  obtain  control  of  the  power  of  }li3 
so  as  to  win  earthly  gratifications  at  the  ex- ; 
pense   of  others.     People   constantly  assume 
that  there  is  something  metaphysical  and  sen- 
timental about  government.     At  bottom  therer 
are  two  chief  things  with  which  government! 
has  to  deal.     They  are,  the  property  of  menl  ••— > 
and  theJiouor^i)Lj£Oiiien._  These  it  has  to  de-i 
fend  against  crime.     The  capital  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  the  condition  of  all  welfare  on 
earth,  the  fortification  of  existence,  and  the 
means  of  growth,  is   an  object  of  cupidity. 
Some  want  to  get  it  without  paying  the  price 
of  industry  and  economy.     In  ancient  times 
they  made  use   of  force.      They   organized 
bands  of  robbers.     They  plundered  laborers 
and  merchants.     Chief  of  all,  however,  they 


102  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

found  that  means  of  robbery  which  consisted 
in  gaining  control  of  the  civil  organization— 
the  State — and  using  its  poetry  and  romance 
as  a  glamour  under  cover  of  which  they  made 
robbery  lawful.  They  developed  high-spun 
theories  of  nationality,  patriotism,  and  loyal- 
ty. They  took  all  the  rank,  glory,  power,  and 
prestige  of  the  great  civil  organization,  and 
they  took  all  the  rights.  They  threw  on  oth- 
ers the  burdens  and  the  duties.  At  one  time, 
no  doubtj  feudalism  was  an  organization  which 
drew  together  again  the  fragments  of  a  dis- 
solved socief|?;  but  when  the  lawyers  had  ap- 
plied the  Roman  law  to  modern  kings,  and 
feudal  nobles  had  been  converted  into  an  aris- 
tocracy of  court  nobles,  the  feudal  nobility 
no  longer  served  any  purpose. 

In  modern  times  the  great  phenomenon  has 
been  the  growth  of  the  middle  class  out  of  the 
mediaeval  cities,  the  accumulation  of  ^wealth, 
and  the  encroachment  of  wealth,  as  a  social 
power,  on  the  ground  formerly  occupied  by 
rank  and  birth..     The  middle  class_Eas  been 
/      obliged  to  fight  for  its  rights  jga^LiliaJEeu- 
/       dalJcEss,  and  it  has7"cTuring  three  or  four  cen- 
/         turies,  gradually  invented  arid  established  in- 
JS.       stitutions  to  guarantee  personal  and  property 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  103 

rights  against  the  arbitrary  will  of  kings  and 
nobles. 

in  its  turn  T^ealth  is  now  jbecoming  a  power  I 
inJJieJ3tate,  and,  like  every  other  ]x>wer,  it  isl 
liable  to  abuse  unless  restrained  by  checks  and 
guarantees.  There  is  an  insolence  of  wealth, 
as  there"  is  an  insolence  of  rank.  A  plutoc- 
racy  might  be  -even  far  worse  than  an  aristoc- 
racy. Aristocrats  have  always  had  their  class 
vices  and  their  class  virtues.  They  have  al- 
ways been,  as  a  class,  chargeable  with  licen- 
tiousness and  gambling.  They  have,  however, 
as  a  class,  despised  lying  and  stealing.  They 
have  always  pretended  to  maintain  a  standard 
of  honor,  although  the  definition  and  the  code 
of  honor  have  suffered  many  changes  and 
shocking  deterioration.  The  middle  class 
has  always  abhorred  gambling  and  licentious  ,| 
ness,  but  it  has  not  always  been  strict  about*' 
truth  and  pecuniary  fidelity.  That  there  is  a 
code  and  standard  of  mercantile  honor  which 
is  quite  as  pure  and  grand  as  any  military 
code,  is  beyond  question,  but  it  has  never  yet 
been  established  and  defined  by  long  usage  and 
the  concurrent  support  of  a  large  and  influ- 
ential society.  The  feudal  code  has,  through 
centuries,  bred  a  high  type  of  men,  and  con- 


104  WHAT    SOCIAL   CLASSES 

stituted  a  caste.  The  mercantile  code  has 
not  yet  done  so,  but  the  wealthy  class  has 
attempted  to  merge  itself  in  or  to  imitate  the 
feudal  class. 

The  consequence  is,  that  the  wealth-power 
has  been  developed,  while  the  moral  and  s^T 
cial  sanctions  by  which  that  power  ought  to  ] 
be  controlled  have  not  yet  been  developed.  / 
A  plutocracy  would  be  a  civil  organization  in 
which  the  jpower  resides  in  wealth,  in  which 
a  man  might  have  whatever  he  could  buy,  in 
which  the  rights,  interests,  and  feelings   of 
those  who  could  not  pay  would  be  overridden. 

There  is  a  plain  tendency  of  all  civilized 
governments  toward  plutocracy.  The  power 
of  wealth  in  the  English  House  of  Commons 
has  steadily  increased  for  fifty  years.  The 
history  of  the  present  French  Republic  has 
shown  an  extraordinary  development  of  plu- 
tocratic spirit  and  measures.  In  the  United 
States  many  plutocratic  doctrines  have  a  cur- 
rency which  is  not  granted  them  anywhere 
else;  that  is,  a  man's  right  to  have  almost 
anything  which  he  can  pay  for  is  more  pop- 
ularly recognized  here  than  elsewhere.  So 
far  the  most  successful  limitation  on  plufcoc- 
racy  has  come  from  aristocracy,  for  the  pres- 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  105 

tige  of  rank  is  still  great  wherever  it  exists. 
The  social  sanctions  of  aristocracy  tell  with 
great  force  on  the  plutocrats,  more  especially 
on  their  wives  and  daughters.  It  has  already 
resulted  that  a  class  of  wealthy  men  is  grow- 
ing up  in  regard  to  whom  the  old  sarcasms  of 
the  novels  and  the  stage  about  parvenus  are 
entirely  thrown  away.  They  are  men  who 
have  no  superiors,  by  whatever  standard  one 
chooses  to  measure  them.  Such  an  interplay 
of  social  forces  would,  indeed,  be  a  great  and 
happy  solution  of  a  new  social  problem,  if  the 
aristocratic  forces  were  strong  enough  for  the 
magnitude  of  the  task.  If  the  feudal  aris- 
tocracy, or  its  modern  representative — which 
is,  in  reality,  not  at  all  feudal — could  carry 
down  into  the  new  era  and  transmit  to  the 
new  masters  of  society  the  grace,  elegance, 
breeding,  and  culture  of  the  past,  society 
would  certainly  gain  by  that  course  of  things, 
as  compared  with  any  such  rupture  between 
past  and  present  as  occurred  in  the  French 
Revolution.  The  dogmatic  radicals  who  as- 
sail "on  principle"  the  inherited  social  no- 
tions and  distinctions  are  not  serving  civiliza- 
tion. .Society  can  do  without  patricians,  but 
,';  ( imnot  do  without  the  patriciaQjd.rJtllfiSf 


WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

In  the  United  States  ty  opponent,  of  p]ru 
Jocracy  is  democracy.  Nowhere  else  in  the 
world  has  the  power  of  wealth  come  to  be 
discussed  in  its  political  aspects  as  it  is  here. 
Nowhere  else  does  the  question  arise  as  it  does 
here.  I  have  given  some  reasons  for  this  in 
former  chapters.  Nowhere  in  the  world  is 
thejlanger  of  a  plutocracy  as  formidable  as  it 
is  here.  To  it  we  oppose  the  power  of  num- 
bers as  it  is  presented  by  democracy.  De- 
mocracy itself,  however,  is  new  and  expert-^ 
mental.  It  has  not  yet  existed  long  enough 
to  find  its  appropriate  forms.  It  has  no  pres- 
tige from  antiquity  such  as  aristocracy  pos- 
sesses. It  has,  indeed,  none  of  the  surround- 
ings which  appeal  to  the  imagination.  On 
^the  other  hand,  democracy  is  rooted  in  the 
j  physical,  economic,  and  social  circumstances 
of  the  United  jStates.  This  country  cannot 
be  other  than  democratic  for  an  indefinite  pe- 
riod in  the  future.  Its  political  processes 
f  will  also  be  republican.  Jhe  afifefitlQiLof  the 
j  people  for  democracy  makes  them  blind  and 
uncritical  in  regard  to  it,  and  they,  are  as  fond 
of  the  political  fallacies  to  which  democracy 
lends  itself  as  they  are  of  its  sound  and  cor- 
rect interpretation,  or  fonder.  Can  democ- 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  107 

racy  develop  itself  and  at  the  same  time  curb 
plutocracy  ?  ^ 

Already  the  question  presents  itself  as  one 
of  life  or  death  to  democracy.      Legislative/ 
and  judicial  scandals  show  us  that  the  conflict 
is  already  opened,  and  that  it  is  serious.     The  ^ 
lobbyjs^the  army  of  the  plutocracy.    Anjslec- 
tivjELJlldiciary  is  aTTteyice  so  much  in  the  in^ 

terest  of  plutocracy,  that  it  must  be  regarded 

'••  r  J  ?       -•  "      — — • p 

as  a  striking  proof  oi^iha . 


judicial  institution  that  it  hag  reacted  the 
corruption  so  much  as  it  has.  The  caucus, 
convention,  and  committee  lend  themselves 
most  readily  to  the  purposes  of  interested 
speculators  and  jobbers.  It  is  just  such  ma- 
ch'nery  as  they  might  have  invented  if  they 
had  been  trying  to  make  political  devices  to 
serve  their  purpose,  and  their  processes  pall 
in  question  nothing  less ,  than  the  possibility 
of  ^  free  self-government  under  the  forms  of 
a  democratic  republic. 

For  now  I  come  to  the  particular  point 
which  I  desire  to  bring  forward  against  all 
the  denunciations  and  complainings  about  the 
power  of  chartered  corporations  and  aggre- 
gated  capital.  If  charters  have  been  given 
which  confer  undue  powers,  who  gave  them  ? 


108  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

Our  legislators  did.  Who  elected  these  legis- 
lators ?  We  did.  If  we  are  a  free,  self-gov- 
erning people,  we  must  understand  that  it 
costs  vigilance  and  exertion  to  be  self-govern- 
Kng.  It  costs  far  more  vigilance  and  exertion 
to  be  so  under  the  democratic  form,  where  we 
have  no  aids  from  tradition  or  prestige,  than 
under  other  forms.  If  we  are  a  free,  self-gov- 
erning people,  we  can  blame  nobody  but  our- 
J selves  for  our  misfortunes.  No  one  will  come 
to  help  us  out  of  them.  It  wrill  do  no  good 
to  heap  law  upon  law,  or  to  try  by  constitu- 
tional provisions  simply  to  abstain  from  the 
use  of  powers  which  wre  find  we  always  abuse. 
How_caeuwe^et  bad  legislators  to  pass  a  law 
which  shall  hinder  bad  legislators  from  pass- 
ing^a  bad  law  ?  ThaLjs^wIiat  we  are  trying 
to  do  by  many  of  our  proposed  remedies. 
/The  tasE  before  us,  however,  is  one  which 
calls  for  fresh  reserves  of  moral  force  and  po- 
litical virtue  from  the  very  foundations  of  the 
social  body.  Surely  it  is  not  a  new  thing  to 
us  to  learn  that  men  are  greedy  and  covetous, 
and  that  they  will  be  selfish  and  tyrannical  if 
-  they  dare.  The  plutocrats  are  simply  trying 
to  do  what  the  generals,  nobles,  and  priests 
have  done  in  the  past — get  the jjower  of  the 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  109 

Statejiito  their  hands,  BO  as  to  bend  the  rights 
of  others  to  their  own  advantage;  and  what 
we  need  to  do  is  to  recognize  the  fadLthat 
are  face  to  face  with  the  same  old  foes — t 
vices  _  agd passions  of  human  .nature.  One  of 
the  oldest  and  most  mischievous  fallacies  i 
this  country  has  been  the  notion  that  we  ar 
better  than  other  nations,  and  that  Govern- 
ment has  a  smaller  and  easier  task  here  thaA 
elsewhere.  This  fallacy  has  hindered  us  from' 
recognizing  our  old  foes  as  soon  as  we  should, 
have  done.  Then,  again,  these  vices  and  pas- ' 
sions  take  good  care  here  to  deck  themselves 
out  in  the  trappings  of  democratic  watch- 
words and  phrases,  so  that  they  are  more  of- 
ten greeted  with  cheers  than  with  opposition 
when  they  first  appear.  The  plan  of  electing' 
men  to  represent  us  who  systematically  sur- 
render public  to  private  interests,  and  then 
trying  to  cure  the  mischief  by  newspaper  and 
platform  declamation  against  capital  and  cor- 
porations, is  an  entire  failure. 

Thi^new  foesjjaiigt-Jba  m^t,  as  the  old  ones  I 
were    met  —  by  jristitntiVms    sm(\    frnprsmtew.  I 

<he  problem  of  civil  liberty  is  constantly  re- 
:wed.     Solved  once,  it  re-appears  in  a  new 
form.    The  old  constitutional  guarantees  were 


,110  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

all  aimed  against  king  and  nobles.  New  ones 
must  be  invented  to  hold  tlie  power  of  wealth 
to  that  responsibility  without  which  no  power 
whatever  is  consistent  with  liberty.  The  ju- 
diciary has  given  the  most  satisfactory  evi- 
dence that  it  is  competent  to  the  new  duty 
which  devolves  upon  it.  The  courts  have 
proved,  in  every  case  in  which  they  have  been 
called  upon,  that  there  are  remedies,  that  they 
are  adequate,  and  that  they  can  be  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  cases.  The  chief  need  seemsJ 
to  be  more  power  of  voluntary 
co-operation  among_JJiQ&e 


. 

grieved.  Such  co-operation  is  a  constant  ne- 
cessity under  free  self-government  ;  and  when, 
in  any  community,  men  lose  the  power  of  vol- 
untary co-operation  in  furtherance  or  defence 
of  their  own  interests,  they  deserve  to  suffer, 
with  no  other  remedy  than  newspaper  de- 
nunciations and  platform  declamations.  Of 
course,  in  such  a  state  of  things,  political 
mountebanks  come  forward  and  propose  fierce 
measures  which  can  be  paraded  for  political 
effect.  Such  measures  would  be  hostile  to  all 
our  institutions,  would  destroy  capital,  over- 
throw credit,  and  impair  the  most  essential 
(  interests  of  society.  On  the  side  of  gojitical  / 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  Ill 

machinery  there  is  no  ground  for  hope,  butj 
tor' fear.     On.  the   side  of  constitutional 


guaranteeJP~alid  the  independent^  ^act^STof 
sdfrgorermrig  freenienThere"Ts'"every  ground} 
foThox^e. 


112  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


YITT. 

ON  THE  VALUE,  AS  A  SOCIOLOGICAL  PRIN- 
CIPLE,  OF  THE  RULE  TO  MIND  ONE'S  OWN 
BV8IN888. 

THE  passion  for  dealing  with  social  ques- 
tions is  one  of  the  marks  of  our  time.  Every 
man  gets  some  experience  of,  and  makes  some 
observations  on  social  affairs.  Except  matters 
of  health,  probably  none  have  such  general 
interest  as  matters  of  society.  Except  matters 
of  health,  none  are  so  much  afflicted  by  dog- 
matism and  crude  speculation  as  those  which 
appertain  to  society.  The  amateurs  in  social 
science  always  ask :  What  shall  we  do  ?  What 
shall  we  do  with  Neighbor  A?  What  shall 
we  do  for  Neighbor  B  ?  What  shall  we  make 
Neighbor  A  do  for  Neighbor  B  ?  It  is  a  fine 
thing  to  be  planning  and  discussing  broad  and 
general  theories  of  wide  application.  The 
amateurs  always  plan  to  use  the  individual  for 
some  constructive  and  inferential  social  pur- 
pose, or  to  use  the  society  for  some  construc- 
tive and  inferential  individual  purpose.  For 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  113 

A  to  sit  down  and  think,  What  shall  I  do  ?  is 
commonplace ;  but  to  think  what  B  ought  to 
do  is  interesting,  romantic,  moral,  self-flatter- 
ing, and  public -spirited  all  at  once.  It  sat- 
isfies a  great  number  of  human  weaknesses 
at  once.  To  go  on  and  plan  what  a  whole 
class  of  people  ought  to  do  is  to  feel  one's  self 
a  power  on  earth,  to  win  a  public  position,  to 
clothe  one's  self  in  dignity.  Hence  we  have 
an  unlimited  supply  of  reformers,  philanthro- 
pists, humanitarians,  and  would-be  managers- 
in-general  of  society. 

Every  man  and  woman  in  society  has  one] 
big  duty.  That  is,  to  take  care  of  his  or Jier4k 
°wn.,i§lli_  This  is  a  social  duty.  For,  fortu-  ' 
nately,  the  matter  stands  so  that  the  duty  of 
making  the  best  of  one's  self  individually  is 
not  a  separate  tiling  from  the  duty  of  filling 
one's  place  in  society,  but  the  two  are  one, 
and  the  latter  is  accomplished  when  the  for- 
mer is  done.  The  common  notion,  however, 
seems  to  be  that  one  has  a  duty  to  society,  as 
a  special  and  separate  thing,  and  that  this 
duty  consists  in  considering  and  deciding 
what  other  people  ought  to  do.  Now,  the 
man  who  can  do  anything  for  or  about  any- 
body else  than  himself  is  fit  to  be  head  of  a 
8 


114  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

family ;  and  when  lie  becomes  head  of  a  f  jjm- 
ily  he  has  duties  to  his  wife  and  his  children, 
in  addition  to  the  former  big  duty.  Then, , 
again,  any  man  who  can  take  care  of  himself 
and  his  family  is  in  a  very  exceptional  posi- 
tion, if  he  does  not  find  in  his  immediate  sur- 
roundings people  who  need  his  care  and  have 
some  sort  of  a  personal  claim  upon  him.  If, 
now,  he  is  able  to  fulfil  all  this,  and  to  take 
care  of  anybody  outside  his  family  and  his 
dependents,  he  must  have  a  surplus  of  energy, 
wisdom,  and  moral  virtue  beyond  what  he 
needs  for  his  own  business.  No  man  has  this ; 
for  a  family  is  a  charge  which  is  capable  of 
infinite  development,  and  no  man  could  suf- 
fice to  the  full  measure  of  duty  for  which  a 
family  may  draw  upon  hiny  Neither  can  a 
man  give  to  sc>ciety  so  advantageous  an  em- 
ploynienTof  his  services,  whatever  they  are, 
TiTany  other~way  as  by  spendingjhem^on^his 
"family  Upon"  this,  however,  I  will  not  in- 
sist. I  recur  to  the  observation  that  a  man 
who  proposes  to  take  care  of  other  people 
must  have  himself  and  his  family  taken  care 
of,  after  some  sort  of  a  fashion,  and  must  have 
an  as  yet  unexhausted  store  of  energy. 

The  danger  of  minding  other  people's  busi- 


OWE    TO    EACH  OTHER.  115 

ness  is  twofold.     First,  there_ia-tlia-.danger) 

t-^jj^-^JT^aiLJnay  l^avp,  "his  own  Ivilfii^p^nTT^-t 

tended  to  ;  .and,  second,  there  is  the  danger  of 
an  impertinent  interference  with  another's  af- 
fairs. The  "  friends  of  humanity"  almost  al- 
ways run  into  both  dangers.  I  am  one  of 
humanity,  and  I  do  not  want  any  volunteer 
friends.  I  regard  friendship  as  mutual,  and 
I  want  to  have  my  say  about  it.  I  suppose 
that  other  components  of  humanity  feel  in  the 
same  way  about  it.  If  so,  they  must  regard 
any  one  who  assumes  the  role  of  a  friend  of 
^  impertinent.  The  reference  of 


th£  friend  j)JLhnmajuty  :4>ack4e- 
ne^ouibviously  the  next  step. 

Yet  wre  are  constantly  annoyed,  and  the 
legislatures  are  kept  constantly  busy,  by  the 
people  who  have  made  up  their  minds  that 
it  is  wise  and  conducive  to  happiness  to  live 
in  a  certain  way,  and  who  wrant  to  compel 
everybody  else  to  live  in  their  way.  Some 
people  have  decided  to  spend  Sunday  in  a 
certain  way,  and  they  want  laws  passed  to 
make  other  people  spend  Sunday  in  the  same 
way.  Some  people  hay^regjQlYjgdJLQ,bp.  .tee- 
totalers, and  they  want^  jjjaw  passed  to  make 
everybody  else  a  teetotaler.  Some  people 


116  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

have  resolved  to  eschew  luxury,  and  they 
want  taxes  laid  to  make  others  eschew  luxury. 
The  taxing  power  is  especially  something  af 
ter  which  the  reformer's  finger  always  itches. 
Sometimes  there  is  an  element  of  self-interest 
in  the  proposed  reformation,  as  when  a  pub- 
lisher wanted  a  duty  imposed  on  books,  to  keep 
Americans  from  reading  books  which  would 
unsettle  their  Americanism ;  and  when  artists 
wanted  a  tax  laid  on  pictures,  to  save  Ameri- 
cans from  buying  bad  paintings. 

I  make  no  reference  here  to  the  giving  and 
taking  of  counsel  and  aid  between  man  and 

•  man :  of  that  I  shall  say  something  in  the  last 
chapter.     The  very  sacredness  of  the  relation  ^ 
iii  which  two  men  stand,  to. -one  another  wheiu 
one  of  them  rescues  the  other  from  vice  sep- 
arates that  relation  from  any  connection  with 
the  work  of  the  social  busybody,  tlxe  profes- 
sional philanthropist,  and,  the^  empirical  legis=-_ 
Tatar! 

~~  The  amateur  social  doctors  are  like  the  ama- 
teur physicians — they  always  begin  with  the 
question  of  remedies,  and  they  go  at  this  with- 

iout  any  diagnosis  or  any  knowledge  of  the 
anatomy  or  physiology  of  society.  They  nev- 
er have  any  doubt  of  the  efficacy  of  their 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  117 

remedies.  They  never  take  account  of  any 
ulterior  effects  which  may  be  apprehended 
from  the  remedy  itself.  It  generally  troubles 
them  not  a  whit  that  their  remedy  implies  £ 
complete  reconstruction  of  society,,  or  .even  a 
reconstitution  of  human  nature.  Against  all 
such  social  quackery  the  obvious  injunction 
to  the  quacks  is,  to  mind  their  own  business. 

The  social  doctors  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  themselves  to  be  more  moral  or  more 
enlightened  than  their  fellow-men.     They  are 
able  to  see  what  other  men  ought  to  do  when 
the  other  men  do  not  see  it.     An  examination ' 
of  the  work  of  the  social  doctors,  however, 
shows  that  they  are  only  more  ignorant  and 
more  presumptuous  than  other  people.     We 
have  a  great  many  social  difficulties  and  hard- 
ships to  contend  with.    Poverty,  pain,  disease, 
and  misfortune  surround  our  existence.     We 
fight  against  them  all  the  time.     The  individ-i 
ual  is  a  centre  of  hopes,  affections,  desires,  and! 
sufferings.     When   he   dies,  life   changes  its] 
form,  but  does  not  cease.     That  means  that  1 
the  person — the  centre  of  all  the  hopes,  affec- 
tions, etc. — after  struggling  as  long  as  he  can, 
is  sure  to  succumb  at  last.     We  would,  there- 
fore, as  far  as  the  hardships  of  the  human  lot 


118  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

are  concerned,  go  on  struggling  to  the  best  of 
our  ability  against  them  but  for  the  social  doc- 
tors, and  we  Would  endure  what  we  could  not 
cure.  But  we  have  inherited  a  vast  number 
of  social  ills  which  never  came  from  Nature. 
Thej7  are  the  complicated  products  of  all  the 
tinkering,  muddling,  and  blundering  of  social 
doctors  in  the  past.  These  products  of  social 
quackery  are  now  buttressed  by  habit,  fashion, 
prejudice,  platitudinarian  thinking,  and  new 
quackery  in  political  economy  and  social  sci- 
ence. It  is  a  fact  worth  noticing,  just  when 
there  seems  to  be  a  revival  of  faith  in  legisla- 
tive agencies,  that  our  States  are  generally 
providing  against  the  experienced  evils  of 
over-legislation  by  ordering  that  the  Legislat- 
ure shall  sit  only  every  other  year.  During 
the  hard  times,  when  Congress  had  a  real 
chance  to  make  or  mar  the  public  welfare,  the 
final  adjournment  of  that  body  was  hailed 
year  after  year  with  cries  of  relief  from  a 
/great  anxiety.  The  greatest  reforms  whicl 
I  could  now  be  accomplished  would  consist  in 
|  undoing  the  work  of  statesmen  in  the  past 
and  the  greatest  difficulty  in  the  way  of  re' 
\  f orm  is  to  find  out  how  to  undo  their  worl 
i  without  injury  to  what  is  natural  and  sound. 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  x     119 

All  this  mischief  has  been  done  by  men  who 
sat  down  to  consider  the  problem  (as  I  heard 
an  apprentice  of  theirs  once  express  it),  What 
kind  of  a  society  do  we  want  to  make  ?  When 
they  had  settled  this  question _& priori  tq  their 
satisfaction,  they  set  to  work  _  to  make  their 
ideal  society,  and  to-day  we  suffer  the  conse- 
quences. Human  society^tries  hard  to  jadapt 
itself  to  any  conditionsjn  which  it  finds  itself, 
and  we  have  been  warped  and  distorted  until 
\vejiave  got  used  to  it,  as  the  foot  adapts  it- 
self to  ^an  ill-made  boot.  Next,  we  have  come 
to  think^that  that  ia.thejright  way  for  things 
to  be ;  and  it  is  true  that  a  change  to  a  sound 
and  normal  condition  would  for  a  time  hurt  us, 
as  a  man  whose  foot  has  been  distorted  would 
suffer  if  he  tried  to  wear  a  well-shaped  boot. 
Fiiiallvj  we  have  produced  a  lot  of  economists 
and  social  philosophers  who  have  invented 
sophisms  for  fitting  our  thinking  to  the  dis-y 
torted  facts.^^ 

Society,  therefore,  does  not  need  any  caret  * 
or  supervision.  If  we  can  acquire  a  science 
of  spciety,J)ased  on_observatioii^  of  phenome- 
na and  study  of  forces,  we  may  hope  to  gain 
some  ground  slowly  toward  the  elimination  of 
old  errors  and  the  re-establishment  of  a  sound 


120  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

and  natural  social  order.  Whatever  we  gain 
that  way  will  be  by  growth,  never  in  the 
world  by  any  reconstruction  of  society  on  the 
plan  of  some  enthusiastic  social  architect.  The 
latter  is  only  repeating  the  old  error  over 
again,  and  postponing  all  our  chances  of  real 
improvement.  Society  needs  first  of  all  to  be 
freed  from  these  meddlers  —  that  is,  to  be  let 
alone.  Here  we  are,  then,  once  more  back  at 
"the  old  doctrine  —  Laissez  faire.  Let  us  trans- 
late it  into  blunt  English,  and  it  will  read, 
Mind  your  own  business.  It  is  nothing  but 
the  doctrine  of  liberty/  Let  every  man  be 


happy  in  his  own  way.  If  his  sphere  of  ac- 
tion and  interest  impinges  on  that  of  any  oth- 
er man,  there  will  have  to  be  compromise  and 
adjustment.  Wait  for  the  occasion.  Do  not 
attempt  to  generalize  those  interferences  or  to 
plan  for  them  a  priori.  We  have  a  body  of 
laws  and  institutions  which  have  grown  up 
as  occasion  has  occurred  for  adjusting  rights. 
Let  the  same  process  go  on.  Practise  the  ut- 
most reserve  possible  in  your  interferences 
even  of  this  kind,  and  by  no  means  seize  oc- 
casion for  interf  enng^with  ....natural__adjust- 
^ients.  Try  first  long  and  patiently  whether 
the  natural  adjustment  will  not  come  about 


- 


OWE    TO    EACH    OTHER.  121 

through  the  play  of  interests  and  the  volun- 
tary concessions  of  the  parties. 

I  have  said  that  we  have  an  empirical  polit- 
ical economy  and  social  science  to  fit  the  dis- 
tortions of  our  society.  The  test  of  empiri- 
cism in  this  matter  is  the  attitude  which  one 
takes  up  toward  laissez  faire.  It  no  doubt 
wounds  the  vanity  of  a  philosopher  who  is  just 
ready  with  a  new  solution  of  the  universe  to 
be  told  to  mind  his  own  business.  So  he  goes 
on  to  tell  us  that  if  we  think  that  we  shall,  by 
being  let  alone,  attain  to  perfect  happiness  on 
earth,  we  are  mistaken.  The  half-way  men— 
the  professorial  socialists — join  him.  They 
solemnly  shake  their  heads,  and  tell  us  that 
he  is  right — that  letting  us.  alone  will  never 
secure  us  perfect  happiness.  Under  all  this 
lies  the  familiar  logical  fallacy,  never  express- 
ed, but  really  the  point  of  the  whole,  that  we 
shall  get  perfect  happiness  if  we  put  ourselves 
in  the  hands  of  the  world-reformer.  We  nev- 
er supposed  that  laissez  faire  would  give  us 
perfect  happiness.  We  have  left  perfect  hap- 
piness entirely  out  of  our  account.  If  the 
social  doctors  will  mind  their  own  business, 
we  shall  have  no  troubles  but  what  belong  to 
Nature.  Those  we  will  endure  or  combat  as 


122  WHAT    SOCIAL   CLASSES 

we  can.  What  we  desire  is,  that  the  friends 
of  humanity  should  cease  to  add  to  them. 
Our  disposition  toward  the  ills  which  our  fel- 
low-man inflicts  on  us  through  malice  or  med- 
dling is  quite  different  from  our  disposition 
toward  the  ills  which  are  inherent  in  the  con- 
ditions of  human  life. 

To  mind  one's  ovm^business  is  a  purely  neg- 
ative and  unproductive  injunction,  but,  taking 
social  matters  "as  Tney  are  just  now,  it  is  a  so- 
ciological principle  of  the  first  importance. 
There  might  be  developed  a  grand  philosophy  - 
on  the  basis  of  minding  one's  own  business. 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER  123 


IX. 

ON  THE  CASE  OF  A    CERTAIN  MAN  WHO    IS 
NEVER   THOUGHT  OF. 

THE  type  and  formula  of  most  ..schemes  of 
philanthropy  or  humanitarianism  is  this  :^A 
i  and  B  _put  their  heads  together  to  decide  what 
t  Cjshall  be  made  to  do  for  D^  The  radical  vice 
I  of  all  these  schemes,  from  a  sociological  point 
J of  view,  is  that  0  is  not  allowed  a  voice  in  the 
matter,  and  his  position,  character,  and  inter- 
ests, as  well  as  the  ultimate  effects  on  society 
through  C's  interests,  are  entirely  overlooked, 
call  C  the  Forgotten  Man.     For  once  let  usf 
look  him  up  and  consider  his  case,  for  the 
characteristic  of  all  social  doctors  is,  that  they 
fix  their  minds  on  some  man  or  group  of  men 
whose  case  appeals  to  the  sympathies  and  the 
imagination,  and  they  plan  remedies  addressed 
to  the  particular  trouble ;  they  do  not  under- 
stand that  all  the  parts  of  society  hold  togeth- 
er, and  that  forces  which  are  set  in  action  act 
and  react  throughout  the  whole  organism,  until 
an  equilibrium  is  produced  by  a  re-adjustmenl 


124  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

of  all  interests  and  rights.  They  therefore  ig- 
nore entirely  the  source  from  which  they  must 
draw  all  the  energy  which  they  employ  in 
their  remedies,  and  they  ignore  all  the  effects 
on  other  members  of  society  than  the  ones 
they  have  in  view.  They  are  always  under 
the  dominion  of  the  superstition  of  govern- 
ment, and,  forgetting  that  a  government  pro- 
duces nothing  at  all,  they  leave  out  of  sight 
the  first  fact  to  be  remembered  in  all  social 
discussion — that  the  State  cannot  get  a  cent  for 
any  man  without  taking  it  from  some  other 
man,  and  this  latter  must  be  a  man  who  has 
produced  and  saved  it.  This  latter  is  the  For- 
gotten Man. 

The  friends  of  humanity  start  out  with  cer- 
tain benevolent  feelings  toward  "the  poor," 
"the  weak,"  "the  laborers,"  and  others  of 
whom  they  make  pets.  They  generalize  these 
classes,  and  render  them  impersonal,  and  so 
constitute  the  classes  into  social  pets.  They 
turn  to  other  classes  and  appeal  to  sympathy 
and  generosity,  and  to  all  the  other  noble  KMI- 
timents  of  the  human  heart.  Action  in  the 
line  proposed  consists  in  a  transfer  of  capital 
f roin  the  better  oft  to  the  worsc~iE  CajmtaJ^ 
i  however,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  furco  by 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHEK.  125 

wliidj^civilization  is  rnaiataiiied-4iiid  carried! 
on.  The  same  piece  of  capital  cannot  be  usea 
~m  two  ways.  Every  bit  of  capital,  therefore, 
which  is  given  to  a  shiftless  and  inefficient 
member  of  society,  who  makes  no  return  for  > 
it,  is  diverted  from  a  reproductive  use ;  but 
if  it  was  put  to  reproductive  use,  it  would 
have  to  be  granted  in  wages  to  an  efficient  and 

productive  laborer.     Hence  the  real  sufferer/ i 

•*- 

by  that  kind  of  benevolence  whichj^onsists  yvj 
an  expenditure  of  capital  to  protect  the^good- 
f or-nothing  is  the  industrious  laborer.  The  ' 
latter,  however,  is  never  thought  of  in  this 
connection.  It  is  assumed  that  he  is  provided 
for  and  out  of  the  account.  Such  a  notion 
only  shows  how  little  true  notions  of  political 
economy  have  as  yet  become  popularized. 
There  is  an  almost  invincible  prejudice  that 
a  man  who  gives  a  dollar  to  a  beggar  is  gener- 
ous and  kind-hearted,  but  that  a  man  who  re- 
fuses the  beggar  and  puts  the  dollar  in  a  sav- 
ings-bank is  stingy  and  mean.  The  former  is 
putting  capital  where  it  is  very  sure  to  be 
wasted,  and  where  it  will  be  a  kind  of  seed 
for  a  long  succession  of  future  dollars,  which 
must  be  wasted  to  ward  off  a  greater  strain  on 
the  sympathies  than  would  have  been  occa- 


126 


WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


gioned  by  a  refusal  in  the  first  place.     Inas- 
much as  the  dollar  might  have  been  turned 
into  capital  and  given  to  a  laborer  who^jdnle^ 
^earning^  it.  would  have  reprodiiC£dJ.t,  itjnust 
be  regarded  ^  takpn  f™™  t^latite1*    When  a 


millionnaire  gives  a  dollar  to  a  beggar  the  gain 
of  utility  to  the  beggar  is  enormous,  and  the 
loss  of  utility  to  the  millionnaire  is  insignificant. 
Generally  the  discussion  is  allowed  to  rest 
there.  But  if  the  millionnaire  makes  capital 
of  the  dollar,  it  must  go  upon  the  labor  mar- 
ket, as  a  demand  for  productive  services. 
Hence  there  is  another  party  in  interest- — 
the  person  who  supplies  productive  services. 
There  always  are  two  parties.  The  second 
one  is  always  thoJ^orffotten  Man,  and  any  one 
who  wants  to  truly  understand  the  matter  in 
r  question  must  go  and  search  for  the  Forgotten 
Man.  He  will  be  found  to  be  worthy,  indus- 
trious, independent,  and  self-supporting.  He 
is  not,  technically,  "poor"  or  rrwea¥;"  he 
minds  his  own  business,  and  makes  no  corn- 
plaint.  Consequently  the  philanthropists  nev- 
er think  of  him,  and  trample  on  him. 

"We  hear  a  great  deal  of  schemes  for  "im- 
proving the  condition  of  the  working-man." 
In  the  United  States  the  farther  down  we  go 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  127 

in  the  grade  of  labor,  the  greater  is  the  ad- 
vantage which  the  laborer  has  over  the  higher 
classes.  A  hod-carrier  or  digger  here  can,  by 
one  day's  labor,  command  many  times  more 
days'  labor  of  a  carpenter,  surveyor,  book- 
keeper, or  doctor  than  an  unskilled  laborer 
in  Europe  could  command  by  one  day's  labor. 
The  same  is  true,  in  a  less  degree,  of  the  car- 
penter, as  compared  with  the  book-keeper,  sur- 
veyor, and  doctor.  This  is  why  the  United 
States  is  the  great  country  for  thejmskilled 
laborer.  The  economic  conditions  all  favor 
that  class.  There  is  a  great  continent  to  be 
subdued,  and  there  is  a  fertile  soil  available 
to  labor,  with  scarcely  any  need  of  capital. 
Hence  the  people  who  have  the  strong  arms 
have  what  is  most  needed,  and,  if  it  were 
not  for  social  consideration,  higher  education 
would  not  pay.  Such  being  the  case,  the 
working-man  needs  no  improvement  hi  his 
condition  except  to  be  freed  from  the  para- 
sites who  are  living  on  him.  All  sghgm.es  for 
patronizing  "  the  working  classes^savor  of 
condescension.  They,  are  impertinent  and  out 
of  place  in  this  free  democracy.  There  is 
not,  in  fact,  any  such  state  of  things  or  any 
such  relation  as  would  make  projects  of  this 


128  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

kind  appropriate.  Sucli  projects  demoralize 
both  partie^  flattering  the  vanity  of  one  and 
undermining  the  self-resp.e.ct,of  .the  other. 

For  our  present  purpose  it  is  most  impor- 
tant to  notice  that  if  we  lift  any  man  up  we 
must  have  a  fulcrum,  or  point  of  reaction.  In 
society  that  means  that  to  lift  one  man  up  we 
push  another  down.  The  schemes  for  improv- 
ing  thejeondition  of  the  working  classes  inteiV 
fere  in  the  competition  of  workmen  withj&£h 
^ther.  The  beneficiaries  are  selected  by  favor* 
itism,  and  are  apt  to  be  those  who  have  recom- 
mended themselves  to  the  friends  of  humanity 
by  language  or  conduct  which  does  not  betoken 
independence  and  energy.  Those  who  suffer 
a  corresponding  depression  by  the  interference 
are  the  independent  and  self-reliant,  who  once 
more  are  forgotten  or  passed  over;  and  the 
friends  of  humanity  once  more  appear,  in 
their  zeal  to  help  somebody,  to  be  trampling 
on  those  who  are  trying  to  help  themselves. 

Trades-unions  adopt  various  devices  for  rais- 
ing wages,  and  those  who  give  their  time  to 
philanthropy  are  interested  in  these  devices, 
and  wish  them  success.  They  fix  their  minds 
entirely  on  the  workmen  for  the  time  being  in 
the  trade,  and  do  not  take  note  of  any  other 


OWE  TO   EACH    OTHER.  129 

workmen  as  interested  in  the  matter.  It  is 
supposed  that  the  fight  is  between  the  work- 
men and  their  employers,  and  it  is  believed 
that  one  can  give  sympathy  in  that  contest  to 
the  workmen  without  feeling  responsibility  for 
anything  farther.  It  is  soon  seen,  however, 
that  the  mnj^yer  a.drk  t.hft  t.ra.dp.R-miinn  n.nrl 
to  the  other  risks  of  Jy'fi 


au4  settles^  dpjgDL-ta...it.  philosophically.  If, 
now,  we  go  farther,  we  see  that  he  takes  it 
philosophically  because  he  has  passed  the  loss 
along  on  the  public.  It  then  appears  that  the 
public  wealth  has  been  diminished,  and  that 
the  daiigsr  .  of  a  trade  war,  like  the  danger  of 
a  reyolutjon^  is  a  constant  reduction^of  the 
well-being^  of  jalL  So  far,  however,  we  have 
seen  only  things  which  could  lower  wages  — 
nothing  which  could  raise  them.  The  em- 
ployer is  worried,  but  that  does  not  raise 
wages.  The_jpublic  loses,  buttheloss  goes 
to  cover  extra  risk  and  Jhat_do.ea..n.ot~raifie 


A  trades-union  raises  w^ages  (aside  from  the 
legitimate  and  economic  means  noticed    in 

apprentices  who  may  be 
bis  device  acts  directly  on  the  supply  of  la- 
9 


130  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

borers,  and  that  produces  effects  on  wages.  If, 
however,  the  number  of  apprentices  is  limited, 
some  are  kept  out  who  want  to  get  in.  Those 
who  are  in  have,  therefore,  made  a  monopoly, 
and  constituted  themselves  a  privileged  class 
on  a  basis  exactly  analogous  to  that  of  the 
old  privileged  aristocracies.  But  whatever  is 
gaiiied  by  this  arrangement  for  those  who  are 
in  is  won  at  a  greater  loss  to  those  who  are 
kept  out.  Hence  it  is  not  upon  the  masters 
nor  upon  the  public  tha^r^es^unipn^exert 
t]ie  pressure  by  which  they  .rajafi  ^ragea.;..  it.  is 
other  j^j^jrfJh&J^^  3 


/ 


j-ffi  iflto  the  trades,  but,  not  being  able  to 


do  so,  arg  pushed  down  into  thejinskilled  labor 
class.  These  persons,  however,  are  passed  by 
entirely  without  notice  in  all  the  discussions 
"about  trades-unions.  They  are  the  Forgotten 
Men.  But,  since  they  want  to  get  into  the 
trade  and  win  their  living  in  it,  it  is  fair  to 
suppose  that  they  are  fit  for  it,  would  succeed 
at  it,  would  do  well  for  themselves  and  society 
in  it ;  that  is  to  say,  that,  of  all  persons  in- 
terested or  concerned,  they  most  deserve  our 
sympathy  and  attention. 

ine  cases  already  mentioned  involve  no  leg 
islation.      Society,  however,  maintains  police, 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  131 

sheriffs,  and  various  institutions,  the  object  of 
which  is  to  protect  people  against  themselves 
— that  is,  against  their  own  vices.  Almost  all 
legislative  effort  to  prevent  vice  is  really  pro- 
tective of  vice,  because  all  such  legislation 
saves  the  vicious  man  from  the  penalty  of  his 
vice.  Nature's  remedies  against  vice  are  teix*\ 
rible.  She  removes  the  victims  without  jjjity. 
A  drunkard  in  the^.^gattfinjs  just  wherejie  ' 
ought  to  be,  according  to  the  fitness  and  ten- 
dency of  tilings.  Nature  has  set  up  on  him 
the  process  of  decline  and  dissolution  by  which 
she  removes  things  which  have  survived  their 
usefulness.  Gambling  and  other  less  men- 
tionable  vices  carry  their  own  penalties  with 
them. 

Now,  we  never  can  annihilate  a  penalty. 
We  can  only  divert  Jt_from  the  heaTpf  the 
man  who  has  incurred  it  to  the  heads  of  others  {  ^  t 
who  have  Jiot^  incurred  it.  A  vast  amount  of 
"  social  reform  "  consists  in  just  this  operation. 
The  consequence  is  that  those  who  have  gone 
astray,  being  relieved  from  Nature's  fierce 
discipline,  go  on  to  worse,  and  that  there  is 
a  constantly  heavier  burden  for  the  others  to 
bear.  Who  are  the  others  ?  When  we  see  a 
drunkard  in  the  gutter  we  pity  him.  If  a/po- 


132  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

liceman  picks  him  up,  we  say  that  society  has 
interfered  to  save  him  from  perishing.  "  Soci- 
ety "  is  a  fine  word,  and  it  saves  us  the  trouble 
of  thinking.  The  industrious  and  sober  work- 
man, who  is  mulcted  of  a  percentage  of  his 
day's  wages  to  pay  the  policeman,  is  the  one 
who  bears  the  penalty.  But  he  is  the  Forgot- 
ten Man.  He  passes  by  and  is  never  noticed, 
because  he  has  behaved  himself,  fulfilled  his 
contracts,  and  asked  for  nothing. 

The  fallacy  of  all  prohibitory,  sumptuary, 
and  moraHegislation  is_the  same.  A  and  B 
determine  to  be  teetotalers,  which  is  often  a 
wise  determination,  and  sometimes  a  necessary 
one.  If  A  and  B  are  moved  by  considerations 
which  seem  to  them  good,  that  is  enough.  But 
A  and  B  put  their  heads  together  to  get  a  law 
passed  which  shall  force  C  to  be  a  teetotaler 
for  the  sake  of  D,  who  is  in  danger  of  drink- 
ing too  much.  There  is  no  pressure  on  A  and 
B.  They  are  having  their  own  way,  and  they 
like  it.  There  is  rarely  any  pressure  on  D. 
He  does  not  like  it,  and  evades  it.  The  press- 
ure all  comes  on  0.  The  question  then  arises, 
Who  is  C?  He  is  the  man  who  wants  alco- 
holic liquors  for  any  honest  purpose  whatso- 
ever, who  would  use  his  liberty  without  abus- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  133 

ing  it,  who  would  occasion  no  public  question, 
and  trouble  nobody  at  all.  He  is  the  Forgot- 
ten Man  again,  and  as  soon  as  he  is  drawn 
from  his  obscurity  we  see  that  lie  is  just  what 
each  one  of  us  ought  to  be. 


134  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 


X. 

THE  CASE  OF  THE  FORGOTTEN  MAN 
FARTHER   CONSIDERED. 

THERE  is  a  beautiful  notion  afloat  in  our 
literature  and  in  the  minds  of  -our  peopl^that 
men  are  born  to  certain  "  ^aturaJ[jri^hts.''  \If 
that  were  true,  there  woulcFte  soritet&bg-'on 
earth  which  was  got  for  nothing,  and  this  world 
would  not  be  the  place  it  is  at  all.  The  fact 
is,  that  the,rg_Js  no  right  whatever  inherited 
JiyjQQaTijrohift]i.liflfl  TiAtTaTi  f>^JYg]gJ^nT1^ 
responding  duty  bj_ jhg__side  of  it,  as  the 
price  of  it.  The  rights,  advantages,  capital, 
knowledge,  and  all  other  goods  which  we  in- 
herit from  past  generations  have  bago  won  by 
the  struggles  and  sufferings  of(j>astgenera- 
tiaag  5  and  the  fact  that  the  race  nves^though 
men  die,  and  that  the  race  can  by  heredity  ac- 
cumulate within  some  cycle  its  victories  over 
Nature,  is  one  of  the  facts  which  make  civili- 
zation possible.  The  struggles  of  the  race  as 
a  whole  produce  the  possessions  of  the  race  as 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  135 

a  whole.     Something  for  nothing  is  not  to  be 
found  on  earth. 

If  there  were  such  things  as  natural  rights, 
the  question  would  arise,  Against  whom  are 
they  good  ?     Who  has  the  corresponding  obli- 
gation to  satisfy  these  rights  ?     There  can  be  j 
no  rights  against  JNaturejjsxcept  to  get  out  of^  ^^ 

her  whatever  we  can,  which  is  only  the  fact     : 
*~ftf  tlle^ffu^gle^ for  existence  stated  over  "agam. 
The  common  assertion  is,  that  the  rights  are 
good  against  society;  that  is,  that  society  is 
bound  to  obtain  and  secure  them  for  the  per- 
sons interested.     Society,  however,  is  only  the  £ 
persons  interested  plus  some  other  persons ;  \ 
and  as  the  persons  interested  have  by  the  hy- 
pothesis failed  to  win  the  rights,  we  come  to 
this,  that  natural  rights  are  the  claims  which 
certain  persons  have  by  prerogative  against 
some  other  persons.     Such  is  the  actual  inter- 
pretation in  practice  of  natural  rights — claims 
which  some  people  have  by  prerogative  on^ 
other  people.  ~ 

This  theory  is  a  very  far-reaching  one,  and 
of  course  it  is  adequate  to  furnish  a  foundation 
for  a  whole  social  philosophy.  In  its  widest 
extension  it  comes  to  mean  that  if  any  man 
finds  himself  uncomfortable  in  this  world,  it 


136  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

must  be  somebody  else's  fault,  and  that  some- 
body is  bound  to  come  and  make  him  comfort- 
#ble.  Now,  the  people  who  are_most  un.com- 
this,  w&rld  (for  if  we  should  tell  all 


our  troubles  it  would  not  be  found  to  be  a 
very  comfortable  world  for  anybody)  are  those 
who  haye  jieglected  their  duties,  and  conse- 
ouently  have  failed  to  get  their  rights.  The 
people  who  can  be  called  upon  to  serve  the 
uncomfortable  must  be  those  who  have  done 
their  duty,  as  the  world  goes,  tolerably  well. 
Consequently  the  doctrine  which  we  are  dis- 
cussing turns  out  to  be  in  practice  only  a 
scheme  for  making  injustice  prevail  in  hu- 
man society  by  reversing_the_distributioa~of 
rewards ^  lE9^punishm^j^^tween  those  who 
"Gave  don?  their  iu^  an^^those-wlia  have  not. 
VVcTare  constantly  preached  at  by  our  pub- 
lic teachers,  as  if  respectable  people  were  to 
blame  because  some  people  are  not  respectable 
— as  if  the  man  who  has  done  his  duty  in  his 
own  sphere  was  responsible  in  some  way  for 
another  man  who  has  not  done  his  duty  in  his 
sphere.  There  are  relations  of  employer  and 
employe  which  need  to  be  regulated  by  com- 
promise and  treaty.  There  are  sanitary  pre- 
cautions which  need  to  be  taken  in  factories 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  137 

and  houses.  There  are  precautions  against 
fire  which  are  necessary.  There  is  care  need- 
ed that  children  be  not  employed  too  young, 
and  that  they  have  an  education.  There  is 
care  needed  that  banks,  insurance  companies, 
and  railroads  be  well  managed,  and  that  offi- 
cers do  not  abuse  their  trusts.  There  is  a 
duty  in  each  case  on  the  interested  parties  to 
defend  their  own  interest.  The  penalty  of 
neglect  is  suffering.  The  system  of  J^rovid- 
ing  f or  these  things  by  boards  and  inspectors 
throws  the  cost  of  it,  not  on  the  interest^ 
parties,  but  on  the  tax-payers.  Some  of  them, 
no  doubt,  are  the  interested  parties,  and  they 
may  consider  that  they  are  exercising  the 
proper  care  by  paying  taxes  to  support  an 
inspector.  If  so,  they  only  get  their  fair  de- 
serts when  the  railroad  inspector  finds  out  that 
a  bridge  is  not  safe  after  it  is  broken  down,  or 
when  the  bank  examiner  comes  in  to  find  out 
why  a  bank  failed  after  the  cashier  has  stolen 
all  the  funds.  The  real  victim  is  the  Forgot- 
ten Man  again — tHe  man  who  has  watchedTliis 
omi-  investments,  maxTe  his  own  macliinery 
jsafe,  attended  to  his  own  plumbing,  and  edu- 
cated his  own  children,  and  who,  just  when  he 
wants  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  care,  is  told 


138  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

that  it  is  his  duty  ...to  go  and  take  care  of 
'some  of  his  negligent  neighbors,  or,  if  he  does 
not  go,  to  pay  an  inspector  to  go.  No  doubt 
it  is  often  his  interest  to  go  or  to  send,  rather 
than  to  have  the  matter  neglected,  on  account 
of  his  own  connection  with  the  thing  neglect- 
ed, and  his  own  secondary  peril  ;  but  the  point 
now  is,  that  if  preaching  and  philosophizing 
can  do  any  good  in  the  premises,  it  Ismail  wrong 
to  jDreach  toj:he  Forgotten  Man^that  it  is  his 
diflt^jfco^gQ  and  ygmedy  other  people's  neglect. 
Clt^is  not  hisduty.  j  It  is  a  harsh  and  unjust 
burden  which  is  laid  upon  him,  and  it  is  only 
the  more  unjust  because  no  one  thinks  of  him 
when  laying  the  burden  so  that  it  falls  on 

(him.  The  exhortations  ought  to  be  expended 
on  the  negligent  —  tEat  they  take  care  of  them- 
selves. 

It  is  an  especially  yjjgipTis  extension  of  the 
false  doctrine  tbove  mentioned  tia    criminals 


have  some  sort  of  a  right  against  or 
society.  Many  reformatory  -^plans  are  based 
on  a  doctrine  of  this  kind  wlt^  they  are  urged 
upon  the  public  conscience.  4-  criminal  is  a 
man  who,  instead  of  working  with  and  for  the 
society,  has  turned  against  it,  and  become 
destructive  and  injurious.  His  punishment 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 


means  that  society  rules  him  out  of  its  mem- 
bership, and  separates  him  from  its  association, 
by  execution  or  imprisonment,  according  to 
the  gravity  of  his  offence.  He  has  no  claims 
against  society  at  all.  "What  shall  be  done 
with  him  is  a  question  of  expediency  to  be 
settled  in  view  of  the  interests  of  society  — 
that  is,  of  the  non-criminals.  The  French 
writers  of  the  school  of  '48  used  to  represent 
the  badness  of  the  bad  men  as  the  fault  of 
"society."  As  the  object  of  this  statement 
was  to  show  that  the  badness  of  the  bad  men 
was  not  the  fault  of  the  bad  men,  and  as  soci- 
ety contains  only  good  men  and  bad  men,  it 
followed  that  the  badness  of  the  bad  men  was 
the  fault  of  the  good  men.  On  that  theory, 
of  course  the  good  men  owed  a  great  deal  to 
the  bad  men  who  avere  in  prison  and  at  the 
galleys  on  their  acdpunt.  Jf  we  do  not  admit 
that  theory,  it  behl  yv^sjas_^^omember  .  that 
liSY^cIaim  which  \ve  allow  to  the  criminal 
against  the  u  Pt-a-te  "  -V  only  ,gp 


^  have  never  cost  the  State 
discipline  or  correction.  The 
punishments  of  society  are  just  like  those  of 
God  and  Nature  —  they  are  warnings  to  the 
wrong-doer  to  reform  himself. 


WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

When  public  offices  are  to  be  filled  nu- 
merous candidates  at  once  appear.  Some  are 
urged  on  the  ground  that  they  are  poor,  or 
cannot  earn  a  living,  or  want  support  while 
getting  an  education,  or  have  female  relatives 
dependent  on  them,  or  are  in  poor  health,  or 
belong  in  a  particular  district,  or  are  related  to 
certain  persons,  or  have  done  meritorious  ser- 
vice in  some  other  line  of  work  than  that 
which  they  apply  to  do.  The  abuses  of  the 
jgublic  jervice  are  to Jbe  condemned  on  account 
of  the  harm "  to  the  public  interest,  but  there 
is  an  incidental  injustice  of  the  same  general 
character  with  that  which  we  are  discussing. 
If  an  office  is  granted  by  favoritism  or  for  any 
personal  reason  to  A,  it  cannot  be  given  to  B. 
If  an  office  is  filled  by  a  person  who  is  unfit 
for  it,  he  always  keeps  out  somebody  some- 
-'where  who  is  fit  for  it ;  that  is,  the  social  in- 
justice has  a  victim  in  an  unknown  person — 
the  Forgotten  vMan. — and  he  is  some  person 
who  has  no  political  influence,  and  who  has 
known  no  way  in  which  to  secure  the  chances 
of  life  except  to  deserve  them.  He  is  passed 
by  for  the  noisy,  pushing,  importunate,  and 
incompetent. 

I  have  said  something  disparagingly  in  a  pre- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHEK.  141 

vious  chapter  about  the  popular  rage  against 
combined  capital,  corporations,  corners,  selling 
futures,  etc.,  etc.  The  popular  rage  is  not 
without  reason,  but  it  is  sadly  misdirected, 
and  the  real  things  which  deserve  attack  are 
thriving  all  the  time.  The__greatest  soci 
eyjfl  with  which  we  have  to  contend  is 
beryO  Whatever  there  is  in  legislative  char- 
ters, watering  stocks,  etc.,  etc.,  which  is  objec- 
tionable, comes  under  the  head  of  jobbery. 

/Jobbery  is  any  scheme  which  aims  to  gain, 

/  "nof  by  the  legitimate  fruits  of  industry  and 

(      enterprise,  but  by  extorting  from  somebody  a 

\    part  of  his  product  under  guise  of  some  pre- 

\  tended  industrial  undertaking.     Of  course  it 

\is  only  a  modification  when  the  undertaking 
in  question  has  some  legitimate  character,  but 
the  occasion  is  used  to  graft  upon  it  devices 
for  obtaining  what  has  not  been  earned.  Job- 
j)ery  is  tl^e  vice  of  pjutocracy^^nd  it  is  the 
especial  form  under  which  plutocracy  corrupts 
a  democratic  and  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment. The  United. States  is  deeply  afflicted 
with  it,  and  the  problem  of  civil  liberty  here 
is  to  conquer  it.  It  affects  everything  which 
we  really  need  to  have  done  to  such  an  extent 
that  we  have  to  do  without  public  objects 


142  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

which  we  need  through  fear  of  jobbery.  Our 
public  buildings  are  jobs — not  always,  butv  of- 
ten. They  are  not  needed,  or  are  costly  be- 
yond all  necessity  or  even  decent  luxury.  In- 
ternal improvements  are  jobs.  They  are  not 
made  because  they  are  needed  to  meet  needs 
which  have  been  experienced.  They  are  made 
to^  serve  private  ends,  often  incidentally  the 
political  interests  oFtEe  persons  who  vote  the 
appropriations.  IPensifiaa,  have  become  jobs. 
In  England  pensions  used  to  be  given  to  aris- 
tocrats, because  aristocrats  had  political  influ- 
ence, in  order  to  corrupt  them.  Here  pensions 
are  given  to  thereat  democratic  mass}  because 
they  have  political  power,  to  corrupt  them. 
Instead  of  going  out  where  there  is  plenty  of 
land  and  making  a  farm  there,  some  people 
go  down  under  the  Mississippi  River  to  make 
a,  farm,  and  then  they  want  to  tax  all  the  peo- 
ple in  the  United  States  to  make  dikes  to  keep 
the  river  off  their  farms.  The  California  gpld- 
miners  have  washed  out  gold,  and  have  washed 
|the  dirt  down  into  the  rivers  and  oil  the  farms 
j  below.  They  want  the  Federal  Government 
ito  now  clean  out  the  rivers  and  restore  the 
warms.  The  silver-miners  found  their  product 
faeclining  in  value,  and  thev  got  the  Federal 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  143 

Government  to  go  into  the  market  and  buy 
what  the  public  did  not  want,  in  order  to  sus- 
tain (as  they  hoped)  the  price  of  silver.  The 
Federal  Government  is  called  upon  to  buy  or 
hire  unsalable  ships,  to  build  canals  which  will 
no£  pay,  to  furnish  capital  for  all  sorts  of..ex- 
periments,  and  to  provide  capital  for  enter- 
prises of  which  private  individuals  will  win 
the  profits.  All  this  is  called  "developing 
our  resources,"  but  it  is,  in  truth,  the  great 
plan  of  all  living  on  each  other.  / 

The  greatest  Job^of  alj  is  a  protective  Iforin2.  V  ^f^i^  A/1 1 
It  includes  the  bi^est  log -rolling  and  the  * 

widest  corruption  of  economic  and  political 
ideas.  It  was  said  that  there  would  be  a  re- 
bellion if  the  taxes  were  not  taken  off  whiskey 
and  tobacco,  which  taxes  were  paid  into  the 
public  Treasury.  Just  then  the  importations 
of  Sumatra  tobacco  became  important  enough 
to  affect  the  market.  The  Connecticut  tobac- 
co-growers at  once  called  for  an  import  duty 
on  tobacco  which  would  keep  up  the  price  of 
their  product.  So  it  appears  that  if  the  tax  on 
/tobacco  is  paid  to  the  Federal  Treasury  there 

I  will  be  a  rebellion,  but  if  it  is  paid  to  the 

/  Connecticut  tobacco-raisers  there  will  be  no 

\rebellion  at  all.     The  farmers  have  long  paid 


f 


14:4  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

tribute  to  the  manufacturers ;  now  the  manu 
factoring  and  other  laborers  are  to  pay  tribute 
to  the  farmers.     The  system  is  made  more 
comprehensive  and  complete,  and  we  are  all 
living  on  each  other  more  than  ever. 

Now,  the  plan  of  plundgring^each  other  pro- 
duces nothing.  It  only  (wastes.  N  All  the  ma- 
terial over  which  the  pr<5^Ctn?Tmterests  wran- 
gle and  grab  must  be  got  from  somebody  out- 
side of  their  circle.  The  talk  is  all  about  the 
American  laborer  and  American  industry,  but 
in  every  case  in  which  there  is  not  an  actual 
production  of  wealth  by  industry  there  are 
two  laborers  and  two  industries  to  be  consid- 
ered— the  one  who  gets  and  the  one  who  gives. 
Every  protected  industry Jmsjo,  plead^as  the 
major  premise  of  its^argumen^^at_any  indu£- 
i*2L  which  does  jao^gaj^^gA^Jto.  be  carried  on 
at  the  expense  of  the_consiimers  of  the  prod- 
uct, and,  as  its  minor  premise,  that  the  indus- 
try in  question  does  not  pay ;  that  is,  that  it 
cannot  reproduce  a  capital  equal  in  value  to 
that  which  it  consumes  plus  the  current  rate 
of  profit.  Hence^every  such^  industry  must 
be  a  Jgarasite  on  some  other  industry.  What 
is  the  other  industry  ?  Who  is  the  other  man  ? 
This,  the  real  question,  is  always  overlooked. 


OWE   TO   EACH    OTHER.  145 

In  all  jobbery  the  case  is  the  same.  There 
is  a^victimjsomewhere  who  is  paying  for  it  all. 
The  doors  of  waste  and  extravagance  stand 
open,  and  there  seems  to  be  a  general  agree- 
ment to  squander  and  spend.  It  all  belongs 
to  somebody.  There  is  somebody  who  had  to 
contribute  it,  and  who  will  have  to  find  more. 
Nothing  is  ever  said  about  him.  Attention  is 
all  absorbed  by  the  clamorous  interests,  the 
importunate  petitioners,  the  plausible  schem- 
ers, the  pitiless  bores.  Now,  who  is  the  vic- 
tim ?  He  is  the  Forgotten  Man.  If  we  go  to 
find  him,  we  shall  find  him  hard  at  work  till- 
ing the  soil  to  get  out  of  it  the  fund  for  all 
the  jobbery,  the  object  of  all  the  plunder,  the 
cost  of  all  the  economic  quackery,  and  the  pay 
of  all  the  politicians  and  statesmen  who  have 
sacrificed  his  interests  to  his  enemies.  We 
shall  find  him  an  honest,  sober,  industrious 
citizen,  unknown  outside  his  little  circle,  pay- 
ing his  debts  and  his  taxes,  supporting  the 
church  and  the  school,  reading  his  party  news- 
paper, and  cheering  for  his  pet  politician. 

We  must  not  overlook  the  fact  tM^tTSTEor- 
gotten  Man  is  not  infrequentlv  4  woman.  /  I 

V  ••"-""  • •"  -  «/  w^j~**—  7 

have  before  me  a  newspaper  whiol^  cpjiMins 

five  letters  from  corset-stitchers  who  complain 

10 


146  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

that  they  cannot  earn  more  than  seventy-five 
cents  a  day  with  a  machine,  and  that  they  have 
to  provide  the  thread.  The  tax  on  the  grade 
of  thread  used  by  them  is  prohibitory  as  to  all 
importation,  and  it  is  the  corset-stitchers  who 
have  to  pay  day  by  day  out  of  their  time  and 
labor  the  total  enhancement  of  price  due  to 
the  tax.  Women  who  earn  their  own  living 
probably  earn  on  an  average  seventy-five  cents 
per  day  of  ten  hours.  Twenty-four  minutes' 
work  ought  to  buy  a  spool  of  thread  at  the  re- 
tail price,  if  the  American  work-woman  were 
allowed  to  exchange  her  labor  for  thread  on 
the  best  terms  that  the  art  and  commerce  of 
to-day  would  allow;  but  after  she  has  done 
twenty-four  minutes'  work  for  the  thread  she 
is  forced  by  the  laws  of  her  country  to  go 
back  and  work  sixteen  minutes  longer  to  pay 
the  tax — that  is,  to  support  the  thread-mill. 
Thethread-mill,  therefore,  is  not  asuinfttitu- 
jioii  f or  getting  tliread  for  the  American  peo^ 
pie,  but  for  making  thread  harSer  to  get  than 

3£fli£]&:WJ^^ 

In  justification,  now,  of  an  arrangement  so 
monstrously  unjust  and  out  of  place  in  a  free 
country,  it  is  said  that  the  employes  in  the 
thread-mill  get  high  wages,  and  that,  but  for 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  147 

the  tax,  American  laborers  must  come  down 
to  the  low  wages  of  foreign  thread -makers. 
It  is  not  true  that  American  thread -makers 
get  any  more  than  the  market  rate  of  wages, 
and  they  would  not  get  less  if  the  tax  were 
entirely  removed,  because  the  market  rate  of 
wages  in  the  United  States  would  be  controlled 
then,  as  it  is  now,  by-thp^siipgly  and  demand . 
of  laborers  -under.,ihe natural  advantages  and 
opportunities  of  industry  in  this  country.  It 
makes  a  great  impression  on  the  imagination, 
however,  to  go  to  a  manufacturing  town  and 
see  great  mills  and  a  crowd  of  operatives ;  and 
such  a  sight  is  put  forward,  under  the  special 
allegation  that  it  would  not  exist  tut  for  a 
protective  tax,  as  a  proof  that  protective  taxes 
are  wise.  But  if  it  be  true  that  the  thread- 
mill  would  not  exist  but  for  the  tax,  or  that  the 
operatives  would  not  get  such  good  wages  but 
for  the  tax,  then  how  can  we  form  a  judgment 
as  to  whether  the  protective  system  is  wise  or 
not  unless  we  call  to  mind  all  the  seamstress- 
es, washer -women,  servants,  factory -hands, 
saleswomen,  teachers,  and  laborers'  wives  and 
daughters,  scattered  in  the  garrets  and  tene- 
ments of  great  cities  and  in  cottages  all  over 
the  country,  who  are  paying  the  tax  which 


148  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

keeps  the  mill  going  and  pays  the  extra  wages  ? 
If  the  sewing-womens  teachers,  servants,  and 
washer-women  could  once  be  collected  over 
against  the  thread-mill,  then  some  inferences 
could  be  drawn  which  would  be  worth  some- 
thing. Then  some  light  might  be  thrown 
upon  the  obstinate  fallacy  of  "  creating  an  in- 
dustry," and  we  might  begin  to  understand 
the  difference  between  wanting  thread  and 
wanting  a  thread-mill.  Some  nations  spend 
capital  on  great  palaces,  others  on  standing 
armies,  others  on  iron -clad  ships  of  war. 
Those  things  are  all  glorious,  and  strike  the 
imagination  with  great  force  when  they  are 
seen ;  but  no  one  doubts  that  they  make  life 
liarder  for  the  scattered  insignificant  peasants 
and  laborers  who  have  to  pay  for  them  all. 
They  "support  a  great  many  people,"  they 
"make  work,"  they  "give  employment  to 
other  industries."  We  Americans  have  no 
palaces,  armies,  or  iron-clads,  but  we  spend 
our  earnings  on  protected  industries.  A  big  \ 
protected  factory,  if  it  really  needs  the  protec-  j 
tion  for  its  support,  is  a  heavier  load  for  the  I 
Forgotten  Men  and  Women  than  an  iron-clad  I 

of  war  in  time  of  peace. 
It  is  plain  that  the  Forgotten  Man  and  th« 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  149 

JForgotten  Woman  are  the  real  productive 
strength  of  the  country.  The  Forgotten  Man 
works  and  votes — generally  he  prays — but  his 
chief  business  in  life  is  to  pay.  His  name 
never  gets  into  the  newspapers  except  when 
he  marries  or  dies.  He  is  an  obscure  man. 
He  may  grumble  sometimes  to  his  wife,  but 
he  does  not  frequent  the  grocery,  and  he  does 
not  talk  politics  at  the  tavern.  So  he  is  for- 
gotten. Yet  who  is  there  whom  the  states- 
man, economist,  and  social  philosopher  ought 
to  think  of  before  this  man  ?  If  any  student 
of  social  science  comes  to  appreciate  the  case 
of  the  Forgotten  Man,  he  will  become  an  un- 
flinching advocate  of  strict  scientific  thinking 
in  sociology,  and  a  hard-hearted  sceptic  as  re- 
gards any  scheme  of  social  amelioration.  He 
will  always  want  to  know,  Who  and  where  is 
the  Forgotten  Man  in  this  case,  who  will  have 
to  pay  for  it  all  ? 

The  Forgotten  Ma.j)  |fi  not  ^  p^p^VTa,  It 
belongs  to  his  character  to  save  something. 
Hence  he  is  a  capitalist,  though  never  a  great 
one.  Pie  is  a  "poor"  man  in  the  popular 
sense  of  the  word,  but  not  in  a  correct  sense. 
In  fact,  one  of  the  most  constant  and  trust- 
worthy signs  that  the  Forgotten  Man  is  in 


150  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

danger  of  a  new  assault  is,  that  "the  poor 
man"  is  brought  into  the  discussion.  Since 
the  Forgotten  Man  has  some  capital,  any  one 
who  cares  for  his  interest  will  try  to  make 
capital  secure  by  securing  the  inviolability  of 
contracts,  the  stability  of  currency,  and  the 
£rmness  of  credit.  Any  one,  therefore,  who 

1  cares  for  the  Forgotten  Man  will  be  sure  to 
pe  considered  a  friend  of  the  capitalist  and  an 
enemy  of  the  poor  man. 

It  is  the  Forgotten  Man  who  is  threatened 
by  every  extension  of  the  paternal  theory  of 
government.  It  is  he  who  must  work  and  pay. 
When,  therefore,  the  statesmen  and  social  phi- 
losophers sit  down  to  think  what  the  State 
can  do  or  ought  to  do,  they  really  mean  to  de- 
cide what  the  Forgotten  Man  shall  do.  What 
the  ForgottenJMtan  wants,  therefore,  is  a  fuller 
realization  of  constitutional  liberty.  He  is 

^ III!      Ill  ""  I  •     _•  II      "— 

suffering  from  the  fact  that  there  are  yet 
mixed  in  our  institutions  mediaeval  theories 
of  protection,  regulation,  and  authority,  and 
modern  theories  of  independence  and  indi- 
vidual liberty  and  responsibility.  The  conse- 
quence of  this  mixed  state  of  things  is,  that 
those  who  are  clever  enough  to  get  into  con- 
trol use  the  paternal  theory  by  which  to  meas- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER. 

lire  their  own  rights — that  is,  they  assume 
privileges ;  and  they  use  the  theory  of  liberty 
to  measure  their  own  duties — that  is,  when 
it  comes  to  the  duties,  they  want  to  be  "  let 
alone."  The  Forgotten  Man  never  gets  into 
control.  He  has  to  pay  both  ways.  His  rights 
are  measured  to  him  by  the  theory  of  liberty 
— that  is,  he  has  only  such  as  he  can  conquer ; 
his  duties  are  measured  to  him  on  the  paternal 
theory — that  is,  he  must  discharge  all  which 
are  laid  upon  him,  as  is  the  fortune  of  parents. 
In  a  paternal  relation  there  are  always  two 
parties,  a  father  and  a  child ;  and  when  we  use 
the  paternal  relation  metaphorically,  it  is  of 
the  first  importance  to  know  who  is  to  be  fa- 
ther and  who  is  to  be  child.  Tlip  rdle  of  par- 
entjalls  always  to  the  Forgotten  Man.  What 
he  wants,  therefore,  is  that  ambiguities  in  our 
institutions  be  cleared  up,  and  that  liberty  be 
more  fully  realized. 

It  behooves  any  economist  or  social  philos- 
opher, whatever  be  the  grade  of  his  orthodoxy, 
who  proposes  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  the 
"  State,"  or  to  take  any  steps  whatever  having 
in  view  the  welfare  of  any  class  whatever,  to 
pursue  the  analysis  of  the  social  effects  of  his 
proposition  until  he  finds  that  other  group 


152  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

whose  interests  must  be  curtailed  or  whose 
energies  must  be  placed  under  contribution 
by  the  course  of  action  which  he  proposes; 
and  he  cannot  maintain  his  proposition  until 
he  has  demonstrated  that  it  will  be.  more  ad- 
vantageous,  both  quantitativ^^jmd  quality 
t,  to  those  who  must  bear  the  weight  of 


it  thaq,j3omplete  noMntofereng^  by  the  State 
with  the  relations  of  the  parties  in  question. 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTIIEJR.  153 


XI. 

WHEREFORE  WE  SHOULD  LOVE  ONE 
ANOTHER. 

SUPPOSE  that  a  man,  going  through  a  wood, 
should  be  struck  by  a  falling  tree  and  pinned 
down  beneath  it.  Suppose  that  another  man, 
coming  that  way  and  finding  him  there,  should, 
instead  of  hastening  to  give  or  to  bring  aid, 
begin  to  lecture  on  the  law  of  gravitation, 
taking  the  tree  as  an  illustration. 

Suppose,  again,  that  a  person  lecturing  on 
the  law  of  gravitation  should  state  the  law  of 
falling  bodies,  and  suppose  that  an  objector 
should  say :  You  state  your  law  as  a  cold, 
mathematical  fact,  and  you  declare  that  all 
bodies  will  fall  comformably  to  it.  How 
heartless !  You  do  not  reflect  that  it  may  be 
a  beautiful  little  child  falling  from  a  window. 

These  two  suppositions  may  be  of  some  use 
to  us  as  illustrations. 

Let  us  take  the  second  first.  It  is  the  objec- 
tion of  the  sentimentalist ;  and,  ridiculous  as 


154  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

the  mode  of  discussion  appears  when  applied 
to  the  laws  of  natural  philosophy,  the  sociolo- 
gist is  constantly  met  by  objections  of  just 
that  character.  Especially  when  the  subject 
under  discussion  is  charity  in  any  of  its  public 
forms,  the  attempt  to  bring  method  and  clear- 
ness into  the  discussion  is  sure  to  be  crossed 
by  suggestions  which  are  as  far  from  the  point 
and  as  foreign  to  any  really  intelligent  point 
of  view  as  the  supposed  speech  in  the  illustra- 
s  tion.  In  the  first  place,  a  child  would  fall 
•just  as  a  stone  would  fall.  Nature's  forces 
iknow  no  pity.  Just  so  in  sociology.  The 
[forces  know  no  pity.  In  the  second  place,  if 
a  natural  philosopher  should  discuss  all  the 
bodies  which  may  fall,  he  would  go  entirely 
astray,  and  would  certainly  do  no  good.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  sociologist.  He  must  con- 
centrate, not  scatter,  and  study  laws,  not  all 
conceivable  combinations  of  force  which  may 
occur  in  practice.  In  the  third  place,  nobody 
ever  saw  a  body  fall  as  the  philosophers  say  it 
will  fall,  because  they  can  accomplish  nothing 
unless  they?  study  forces  separately,  and  allow 
for  theiu  combined  actionjn  all  concrete  and 
actual  phenomena.  The  same  is  true  in  so- 
ciology, with  the  additional  fact  that  the  forces 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  155 

and  their  combinations  in  sociology  are  far  the 
most  complex  which  we  have  to  deal  with. 
In  the  fourth  place,  any  natural  philosopher 
who  should  stop,  after  stating  the  law  of  fall- 
ing bodies,  to  warn  mothers  not  to  let  their 
children  fall  out  of  the  window,  would  make 
himself  ridiculous.  Just  so  a  sociologist jvho 
should  attach  moral  applications  and  practical 
maxims  to  his  inv^tigajtion5  would  entirely 
miss  his  proper  business.  There  is  the  force 
of  gravity  as  a  fact  in  the  world.  If  we  un- 
derstand this,  the  necessity  of  care  to  conform 
to  the  action  of  gravity  meets  us  at  every  step 
in  our  private  life  and  personal  experience. 
The  fact  in  sociology  is  in  no  wise  different. 

If,  for  instance,  we  take  political  economy, 
thftt  science  does  not  teach  an  individual  how 
to  get  rich.  It  is  a  social  science.  It  treats 
of  the  laws  of  the  material  welfare  of  human 
societies.  It  is,  therefore,  only  one  science 
among  all  the  sciences  which  inform  us  about 
the  laws  and  conditions  of  our  life  on  earth. 
Education  has  for  its  object  to  give  a  man 
knowledge  of  the  conditions  and  laws  of  liv- 
ing, so  that,  in  any  case  in  which  the  individ- 
ual stands  face  to  face  with  the  necessity  of 
deciding  what  to  do,  if  he  is  an  educated  man, 


150  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

he  may  know  how  to  make  a  wise  and  intellt 
gent  decision.  If  he  knows  chemistry,  phys- 
ics, geology,  and  other  sciences,  he  will  know 
what  he  must  encounter  of  obstacle  or  help 
in  Nature  in  what  he  proposes  to  do.  If  he 
know^s  physiology  and  hygiene,  he  will  know 
what  effects  on  health  he  must  expect  in  one 
course  or  another.  If  he  knows  political  econ- 
omy, he  will  know  what  effect  on  wealth  and 
on  the  welfare  of  society  one  course  or  anoth- 
er will  produce.  There  is  no  injunction,  no 
"  ought "  in  political  economy  at  all.  It  does 
not  assume  to  tell  man  what  he  ought  to  do, 
any  more  than  chemistry  tells  us  that  we  ought 
to  mix  things,  or  mathematics  that  we  ought 
to  solve  equations.  It  only  gives  one  element 
necessary  to  an  intelligent  decision,  and  in 
fevery  practical  and  concrete  case  the  responsi- 
/  bility  of  deciding  what  to  do  rests  on  the  man 
|  who  has  to  act.  The  economist,  therefore, 
does  not  say  to  any  one,  You  ought  never  to 
give  money  to  charity.  He  contradicts  any- 
body who  says.  You  ought  to  give  money  to 
charity;  and,  in  opposition  to  any  such  per- 
son, he  says,  Let  me  show  you  what  difference 
it  makes  to  you,  to  others,  to  society,  whether 
you  give  money  to  charity  or  not,  so  that  you 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHfiB.  157 

can  make  a  wise  and  intelligent  decision.  Cer- 
tainly there  is  no  harder  thing  to  do  than  to 
employ  capital  charitably.  It  .would  be 
olly^ijCu  say  that  nothing 


ought  to  Jbe^one,  but  I  fully 
day  the^next  most  pernicious 


charity  in  itsjbroad  and  popular  senge. 

In  the  preceding  chapters  I  have  discussed 
the  public  and  social  relations  of  classes,  and 
those  social  topics  in  which  groups  of  persons 
are  considered  as  groups  or  classes,  without 
regard  to  personal  merits  or  demerits.  ^1  have 
relegated  all  charitable^oj^  to^iMjlom^m^o^ 
private  relation^  where  personal  acquaintance 
and  personal  estimates  may  furnish  the  proper 
limitations  and  guarantees.  A  man  who  had 
no  sympathies  and  no  sentiments  would  be  a 
very  poor  creature  ;  but  the  public  charities* 
more  especially  the  legislative  charities,  nour- 
ish no  man's  sympathies  and  sentiments.  Furj- 
thermore,  it  ought  to  be  distinctly  perceived 
that  any  charitable  and  benevolent  effort  which 
any  man  desires  to  make  voluntarily,  to  see  if 
he  can  do  any  good,  lies  entirely  beyond  the 
field  of  discussion.  It  would  be  as  imperti- 
nent to  prevent  his  effort  as  it  is  to  force  co- 
operation in  an  effort  on  some  one  who  does 


158  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

not  want  to  participate  in  it.  What  I  choose 
to  do  by  way  of  exercising  my  own  sympa- 
thies under  my  own  reason  and  conscience  is 
one  thing ;  what  another  man  forces  me  to  do 
of  a  sympathetic  character,  because  his  reason 
and  conscience  approve  of  it,  is  quite  another 
thing. 

What,  now,  is  the  reason  why  we  should 
help  each  other  ?  This  carries  us  back  to  the 
other  illustration  with  which  we  started.  We 
may  philosophize  as  coolly  and  correctly  as  we 
choose  about  our  duties  and  about  the  laws  of 
right  living ;  no  one  of  us  lives  up  to  what  he 
knows.  The  man  struck  by  the  falling  tree 
has,  perhaps,  been  careless.  We  are  all  care- 
less. Environed  as  we  are  by  risks  and  perils, 
which  befall  us  as  misfortunes,  no  man  of  us 
is  in  a  position  to  say,  "  I  know  all  the  laws, 
and  am  sure  to  obey  them  all;  therefore  I 
shall  never  need  aid  and  sympathy."  At  the 
very  best,  one  of  us  fails  in  one  way  and  an- 
other in  another,  if  we  do  not  fail  altogether. 
Therefore  the  man  under  the  tree  is  the  one 
of  us  who  for  the  moment  is  smitten.  It  may 
be  you  to-morrow,  and  I  next  day.  It  is  the 
common  frailty  in  the  midst  of  a  common 
peril  which  gives  us  a  kind  of  .solidarity  of  in 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  159 

terest  to  rescue  the  one  for  whom  the  chances 
of  life  have  turned  out  badly  just  now.  Prob- 
ably the  victim  is  to  blame.  He  almost  always 
is  so.  A  lecture  to  that  effect  in  the  crisis  of 
his  peril  would  be  out  of  place,  because  it 
would  not  fit  the  need  of  the  moment ;  but  it 
would  be  very  much  in  place  at  another  time, 
when  the  need  was  to  avert  the  repetition  of 
such  an  accident  to  somebody  else.  jMgn, 
therefore,  owe  to  men,  in  the  chances  and 

J  >~~^^.^MM — .— ^_» , Z 

perils  of  this  life,  aid  and  sympathy,  on  ac- 
count jx£  the  common  ^rScjpation  in  human 
frailty  and  folly.     This  observation,  however, 
puts  .aid  and  sympathy  in  the  field  of  private 
and  personal^relation§,  under  the  regulation  of 
reason^  and  conscience,  and  gives  np  ground  I 
for  mechanical  and  impersonal  jschemesi. 
We  may,  then,  distinguish  four  things : 

1.  The  function  of  science  is  to  investigate  f 
truth..    Science  is  colorless   and  impersonal. 
It  investigates  the  force  of  gravity,  and  finds 
out  the  laws  of  that  force,  and  has  nothing  to 
do  with  the  weal  or  woe  of  men  under  the 
operation  of  the  law. 

2.  The  moral  deductions  as   to  what   one  I 
ought  to^3o~are  to  be  drawn  by  the  reason 

man   \vho  i* 


160  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 


^  Let  him  take  note  of 

the  force  of  gravity,  and  see  to  it  that  he  does 
not  walk  off  a  precipice  or  get  in  the  way  of 
a  falling  body. 

3.  On  account  of  the  number  and  variety 
of  perils  of  all  kinds  by  which  our  lives  are 
environed,  and  on  account  of  ignorance,  care- 
lessness, and  folly,  wg_gj 


which  wejbave  learned,  so 


us  act 


4.  The  law  of  flHQigjfoyj  hj  which  we  share 
,       each  others'  burdens,  is^tojdoj^.  we  would  be 
donoiy.     It  is  not  a  scientific  principle,  and 
does  not  admit  of  such  generalization  or  in- 
terpretation that  A  can  tell  B  what  this  law 
I   enjoins  on  B  to  do.     Hence  the  relations  of 
I   s£mPa^1J  an(i  sentiment  are  essentially  limit- 
l  ed  to  tw^persons^only,  and  they  cannot  be 
^  made  a  b&sis  for  the~Telations  of  groups  of 
persons,  or  for  discussion  by  any  third  party. 
i  i/fioeial  improvement  is  not  to  be  won  by  di- 
rect effort.     It  is  secondary,  and  results  from 
physical  or  economic  improvemenjtef    That  is 
the  reason  why  schemes  of  direct  social  amel- 
ioration always  have  an  arbitrary,  sentimental, 
and  artificial  character,  while  true  social  ad- 


OWE  TO   EACH   OTHER.  161 

vance  must  be  a  product  and  a  growth.  The  ef- 
forts which  are  being  put  forth  for  every  kind 
of  progress  in  the  arts  and  sciences  are,  there- 
fore, contributing  to  true  social  progress.  Let 
any  one  learn  what  hardship  was  involved,  even 
for  a  wealthy  person,  a  century  ago,  in  cross- 
ing the  Atlantic,  and  then  let  him  compare 
that  hardship  even  with  a  steerage  passage  at 
the  present  time,  considering  time  and  money 
cost.  This  improvement  in  transportation  by 
which  "the  poor  and  weak"  can  be  carried 
from  the  crowded  centres  of  population  to  the 
new  land  is  worth  more  to  them  than  all  the 
schemes  of  all  the  social  reformers.  An  im- 
provement in  surgical  instruments  or  in  an- 
aesthetics really  does  more  for  those  who  are 
not  well  off  than  all  the  declamations  of  the 
orators  and  pious  wishes  of  the  reformers. 
Civil  service  reform  would  be  a  greater  gain 
to  the  laborers  than  innumerable  factory  acts 
and  eight-hour  laws.  Free  trade  would  be  a 
greater  blessing  to  "the  poor  man"  than  all 
the  devices  of  all  the  friends  of  humanity  if 
they  could  be  realized.  If  the  economists 
could  satisfactorily  solve  the  problem  of  the 
regulation  of  paper  currency,  they  would  do 
more  for  the  wages  class  than  could  be  accom- 
11 


162  WHAT   SOCIAL   CLASSES 

plished  by  all  the  artificial  doctrines  about 
wages  which  they  seem  to  feel  bound  to  en- 
courage. If  we  could  get  firm  and  good  laws 
V  passed  for  the  management  of  savings-banks, 
and  then  refrain  from  the  amendments  by 
which  those  laws  are  gradually  broken  down, 
we  should  do  more  for  the  non-capitalist  class 
than  by  volumes  of  laws  against  "corpora- 
tions" and  the  "excessive  power  of  capital." 
We  each  owe  to  the  other 


l 

'{ 


of  grievances.  It  has  been  said,  in  answer  to 
my  argument  in  the  last  chapter  about  the 
Forgotten  Women  and  thread,  that  the  tax 
on  thread  is  "  only  a  little  thing,"  and  that  it 
cannot  hurt  the  women  much,  and  also  that, 
if  the  women  do  not  want  to  pay  two  cents  a 
spool  tax,  there  is  thread  of  an  inferior  qual- 
ity, which  they  can  buy  cheaper.  These  an- 
swers represent  the  bitterest  and  basest  social 
injustice.  Every  honest  citizen  of  a  free  state 
owes  it  to  himself,  to  the  community,  and  es- 
pecially to  those  who  are  at  once  weak  and 
wronged,  to  go  to  their  assistance  and  to  help 
redress  their  wrongs.  Whenever  a  law  or  so- 
cial  arrangement  acts  so  as  to  injure  any  one, 
and  that  one  the  humblest,  then  there  is  a  duty 
on  those  who  are  stronger,  or  who  know  bet- 


OWE   TO    EACH    OTHER.  163 


ter,  to  demand  and  fight  for  redress  and 
rection^  When  generalized  this  means  that  it 
is  the  duty  of  All-of-us  (that  is,  the  State)  to 
establish  justice  for  all,  from  the  least  to  the 
^greatest,  and  in  all  matters.  This,  however,  is 
^no  new  doctrine.  It  is  only  the  old,  true, 
and  indisputable  function  of  the  State;  and 
in  working  for  a  redress  of  wrongs  and  a 
correction  of  legislative  abuses,  we  are  only 
struggling  to  a  fuller  realization  of  it  —  that 
is,  working  to  improve  civil  government. 

each  owe  it  to  the  other  to  guarantee 


rights.  Eights  do  not  pertain  to  results,  but 
only  to  chcmoes.  They  pertain  to  the  condi- 
tions of  the  struggle  for  existence,  not  to  any 
of  the  results  of  it ;  to  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness, not  to  the  possession  of  happiness?\  ItV 
cannot  be  said  that  each  one  has  a  right  to 
have  some  property,  because  if  one  man  had 
such  a  right  some  other  man  or  men  would 
be  under  a  corresponding  obligation  to  pro- 
vide him  with  some  property.  Each  has  a 
right  to  acquire  and  possess  property  if  he 
can.  It  is  plain  what  fallacies  are  developed 
when  we  overlook  this  distinction.  Those  fal- 
lacies run  through  all  socialistic  schemes  and 
theories.  If  we  take  rights  to  pertain  to  re- 


I 


164  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 

suits,  and  then  say  that  rights  must  be  equal, 
we  come  to  say  that  men  have  a  right  to  be 
equally  happy,  and  so  on  in  all  the  details. 
Eights  should  be  equal,  because  they  pertain 
to  chances,  and  all  ought  to  have  equal  chances 
so  far  as  chances  are  provided  or  limited  by 
the  action  of  society.  This,  however,  will  not 
produce  equal  results,  but  it  is  right  just  be- 
cause it  will  produce  unequal  results — that 
is,  results  which  shall  be  proportioned  to  the 
merits  of  individuals.  We  each  owe  it  to  the 
other  to  guarantee  mutually  the  chance  to 
earn,  to  possess,  to  learn,  to  marry,  etc.,  etc., 
against  any  interference  which  would  prevent 
the  exercise  of  those  rights  by  a  person  who 
wishes  to  prosecute  and  enjoy  them  in  peace 
for  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  If  we  general- 
ize this,  it  means  that  4Jko|^is  ought  to  guar- 
antee rights  to  each  of  us.  JButTour  modern 
free,  constitutional  'States  are  constructed  en- 
tirely on  the  notion  of  rights,  and  we  regard 
them  as  performing  their  function£jnore  and 
more  perfectly  according  as  they  guarantee 
rights^  iiT*consonailCB'  With  the  constantl^cor 
rected  and  expanded  notions  of  rights  from 
one  generation  to  another.  Therefore,  when 
we  say  that  we  owe  iV  to 'each  other  to  guar* 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  165 

antee  rights  we  only  say  that  we  ought  to 
prosecute  and  improve  our  political  science. 

If  we  have  in  mind  the  value  of  chances  to 
earn,  learn,  possess,  etc.,  for  a  man  of  indepen- 
dent energy,  we  can  go  on  one  step  farther  in 
our  deductions  about  help.  The^onlv^help  r 
which  is  generally  expedient,  even  within  the 
limits  of  the  private  and  personal  relations  of 
two  persons  to  each  other,  is(£Eat  which  con- 
sists in  helping  a  man  to  help  himself)  This 
always  consists  in  opening  the  chances.  A  man 
of  assured  position  can,  by  an  effort  which  is 
of  no  appreciable  importance  to  him,  give  aid 
which  is  of  incalculable  value  to  a  man  who 
is  all  ready  to  make  his  own  career  if  he  can 
only  get  a  chance.  The  truest  and  deepest 
pathos  in  this  world  is  not  that  of  suffering 
but  that  of  brave  struggling.  The  truest  sym- 
pathy is  not  compassion,  but  a  fellow-feeling 
with  courage  and  fortitude  in  the  midst  of 
noble  effort. 

Now,  the  aid  which  helps  a  man  to  help 
himself  is  not  in  the  least  akin  to  the  aid 
which  is  given  iujV^ftrity.  If  alms  are  given, 
or  if  we  "make  work"  for  a  man,  or  "give 
him  employment,"  or  "  protect "  him, 
ply  take  a  product  fr0™  nnp.  and 


166  WHAT    SOCIAL    CLASSES 

another.  If  we  help  a  man  to  help  himself, 
by  opening  the  chances  around  him,  we  put 
him  in  a  position  to  add  to  the  wealth  of  the 
communitjrjby  putting  new  powers  in  opera- 
tion to  produce.  It  would  seem  that  the  dif- 
ference between  getting  something  already  in 
existence  from  the  one  who  has  it,  and  pro- 
ducing a  new  thing  by  applying  new  labor  to 
natural  materials,  would  be  so  plain  as  never 
to  be  forgotten ;  but  the  fallacy  of  confusing 
the  two  is  one  of  the  commonest  in  all  social 
discussions. 

We  have  now  seen  that  the  current  discus- 
sions about  the  claims  and  rights  of  social 
classes  on  each  other  are  radically  erroneous 
and  fallacious,  and  we  have  seen  that  an  anal- 
ysis of  the  general  obligations  which  we  all 
have  to  each  other  leads  us  to  nothing  but  an 
emphatic  repetition  of  old  but  well-acknowl- 
edged obligations  to  perfect  our  political  insti- 
tutions. We  have  been  led  to  restriction,  not 
extension,  of  the  functions  of  the  State,  but 
we  have  also  been  led  to  see  the  necessity  of 
purifying  and  perfecting  the  operation  of  the 
State  in  the  functions  which  properly  belong 
to  it.  If  we  refuse  to  recognize  any  classes 
as  existing  in  society  when,  perhaps,  a  claim 


OWE    TO    EACH    OTHER. 

might  bo  set  up  that  the  wealthy,  educated, 
and  virtuous  have  acquired  special  rights  and 
precedence,  we  certainly  cannot  recognize  any 
classes  when  it  is  attempted  to  establish  such 
distinctions  for  the  sake  of  imposing  burdens 
and  duties  on  one  group  for  the  benefit  of 
others.  The  men  who  have  not  done  their 
duty  in  this  world  never  can  be  equal  to  those 
who  have  done  their  duty  more  or  less  well. 
If  words  like  wise  and  foolish,  thrifty  and  ex- 
travagant, prudent  and  negligent,  have  any 
meaning  in  language,  then  it  must  make  some 
difference  how  people  behave  in  this  world, 
and  the  difference  will  appear  in  the  position 
they  acquire  in  the  body  of  society,  and  in 
relation  to  the  chances  of  life.  They  may, 
then,  be  classified  in  reference  to  these  facts. 
Such  classes  always  will  exist;  no  other  so- 
cial distinctions  can  endure.  If,  then,  we  look 
to  the  origin  and  definition  of  these  classes,  we 
shall  find  it  impossible  to  deduce  any  obliga- 
tions which  one  of  them  bears  to  the  other. 
The  class  distinctions  simply  xesult-  from  &a  ' 
different  "degrees  of  success  with  which  .ingr 
have  availed  themselves  of  the  chances  whidj 
wereTpresented  to  them.  Instead  of  endeav- 
oring to~ redistribute  the  acquisitions  which 


16&  WHAT   SOCIAL    CLASSES 


have  been  made  between  the  existing  classes, 
our  aim  should  be  to  increase,  multiply,  <md 
extend  the  chances.  Such  is  the  work  of  civil- 
ization. Every  old  error  or  abuse  which  is 
removed  opens  new  chances  of  development 
to  all  the  new  energy  of  society.  Every  im- 
provement in  education,  science,  art,  or  gov- 
ernment expands  the  chances  of  man  on  earth. 
Such  expansion  is  no  guarantee  of  equality. 
On  the  contrary,  if  there  be  liberty,  some  will 
profit  by  the  chances  eagerly  and  some  will 
neglect  them  altogether.  Qfcheref  ore,  *ne  great- 
er the  chances  the  more  unequal  will  be  the 
fortune  of  these  two  sets  of  menT)  So  it  ought 
to  be,  in  all  justice  and  right  reason.  The 
yearning  after  equality  is  the  offspring  of 
envy  and  covetousness,  and  there  is  no  possi-  „ 
ble  plan  for  satisfying  that  yearning  which 
can  do  aught  else  than  rob  A  to  give  to  B ; 
consequently  all  such  plans  nourish  some  of 
the  meanest  vices  of  human  nature,  waste  cap- 
ital, and  overthrow  civilization.  But  if  we 
can  expand  the  chances  we  can  count  on  a 
general  and  steady  growth  of  civilization  and 
advancement  of  society  by  and  through  its 
best  members.  In  the  prosecution  of  these 
.chances  we  all  owe  to  each  other  good- will, 


OWE   TO   EACH   OTHER.  169 

mutual   respect,  and   mutual    guarantees    of\ 
liberty  and  security.     Beyond  this  nothing 
can  be  affirmed  as  a  duty  of  one  group  toj 
another  in  a  free  state. 


THE   END* 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


N 


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ICLF 

/•"  V:.     P  \ 

1    rH     "4 

%  •   ^  ,? 

J 

KB  13  1968 

1 

5i3k 

V/^ 

MAR  13  1968 

REC'D 

MAR11'68-4PM 

LOAN  DCPT. 

APR  1  01988 

AUTO  OISCJW  11188 

diAR  2  1  1989 

|H^I\  fy  •* 

AUTO  DISC  FES  2  8  1989 

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